Extinction
by The 483
Summary: When a small crew of Mercenaries meets with a small team of Asari researchers, sparks fly. But soon, the Reapers emerge to enact their grim work upon the Galaxy, thrusting it into a war for survival. A character based story, trasitioning into a slight "Galaxy at War" tale, focusing on the people more than the war.
1. Hell Holes and Happenstance

Mass Effect: Extinction

**Ugg, gonna try something new, because I can never finish anything. So, the Mass Effect Universe is a violent and sexy place, so this will be a gory and sexy romp. So, I'mma go with the hella M rating. Also, please forgive me, as I was not aware that the site just goes ahead and says "Fuck-all" with the formatting that I do so carefully in my Word program.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect.

**#1: Hellholes and Happenstance**

Mark Angus Dietrich palmed the access hatch to his housing unit's door, and then removed an old fashioned brass key from his pocket, and locked a second lock with the key. This archaic fixture amongst the modern fixtures pretty much summed up the man that placed the brass key in his pocket, and started down the hallway. He was dressed in a pair of well worn denim jeans that bore the tag "Wranglers" across a leather patch on the ass pocket, a dark blue long sleeved shirt made of real cotton, a pair of black tennis shoes, a thick black vest, and a black baseball cap with white stitching in a simple pattern. He had made the old style clothing from costly imports from earth, because, as he told anyone who posed the question, "the now a day styles just don't have a soul the way the classics do." The vest looked plain, but was actually a special lightweight body armor covering capacitors to generate a kinetic barrier of 20% the strength of the standard Alliance body armor systems. Just enough deflect a few rounds of most military grade assault rounds.

His taste in old fashioned stuff could also be seen with the side arm secured in a black fiber holster in the small of his back under the vest. It was another accoutrement he had fashioned himself of some plans he had pulled from the extranet. It was a model of handgun made in the late 1800's of earth's history, named the M1911. It was modern internally, and compatible with all standard pistol sized thermal clips, except that, true to form, the clip was inserted into the butt of the weapon rather than the side like more current models. Underneath and within easy reach of his right hand was a thick bladed combat knife in a well oiled scabbard. The hilt of the knife jutted out from his right hip, and his hand rested on it as he walked down the corridor toward his favorite haunt.

He was still about 2 "blocks" away from the club, but he could already pick up the sound of the music, and get slight scent of perfume, booze, sweat, and even a slight tinge of vomit. He thought the unpleasant smells away, receptors were repressed, and the good filled his senses. A few minutes later, he nodded to the Krogan bouncer, who nodded back, and stepped inside. The throbbing music spiked into his brain, and he quickly turned it down to a comfortable level, while adjusting the tuning so that the voices of the surrounding beings remained clear. He approached the bar, spoke briefly to the Turian bartender, and walked away with a blue drink in a large glass that had vapor rolling off it. He picked carefully through the knots of Asari, Humans, Salarians, Batarians, and even a few Volus, until he managed to locate a free table. Setting his drink down, he pulled a magazine out and began to browse it, and gloried in the diversity that surrounded him. Omega may be a decrepit hellhole of a place, but the diversity of the citizens was the greatest he had ever seen.

He hadn't been exposed to much non-Terran life when he was in the employ of the larger, earth based robotics manufacturer Dynamic Life Systems, which produced cutting edge robotic assistance technology. He had just been a low level maintenance man going to night school for tech training when the accident occurred. One of the multiple heating coils for the Auto Smelter was down for maintenance when a spike from the local fusion plant redlined the on site reactor, and the partially disengaged coil blew. He had no recollection of this, it's just what the doctors and company lawyers had told him after he'd been repaired. The damage had been fairly extensive. He'd lost his left arm at the elbow, his right at the shoulder, and both legs at the knee. He remember nothing, though, before he'd woken up with new limbs, and the Lawyers had informed him of the contract he's been convinced to sign in one of the rare recovery periods when he was lucid. He would be equipped with some prototype biorobotic prosthesis and neural-net equipment, and server a 2 year hitch with the Human Systems Alliance, as part of the company's attempt to land a huge contract for solider aid product. He didn't remember the agreement, but he was game if it would get him out of the dead-end rut he'd gotten himself into.

The advanced prototypes he had been given were astounding. With the plastiflesh covering the ceramic coated metal skeleton, and the new electronic nerves sewn in, even he couldn't have told the difference between the new and old limbs by look or feel. The ceramic support also blocked all but the most penetrating of bio-scans from revealing the nature of his appendages. The neural net was far more extensive. Just the installation required 78 hours of surgery, and was a grave risk to the patient the entire procedure. In short, they had installed a computer into his brain. His mind controlled his body and brain through a computer interface and control system. This allowed him many of the advantages of being a computer, with all of those by being a fleshling.

For him, his military was no big issue, just another job. With his new computer brain, he could learn anything almost at once, and with minimal error. He mastered what they taught him, and devoured Tech work and books in his spare time. When he was discharged, he had enough Tech knowledge stored in his head, that if given the resources and motivations, he could have reconstructed the ship he'd served on from memory. After the successful deployment of his prototype, the company set him free, and left him without a goal or purpose. He decided that he wanted to see more of the galaxy and caught a gig out system by working maintenance to pay his way. It dropped him at Omega Station, running better than it ever had. He had quickly made a name for himself, doing mercenary work and repairs, and after a few years was living a lifestyle he would have never been able to achieve on earth.

The upscale Neighborhood where he resided was in a district that was considered neutral by the station livers, but was technically under the protection of the stations defacto sovereign, the Asari Aria T'loak. He had made a good impression with the pirate Queen and good quite a few good contracts from her. In Fact, he was at the club tonight because he wanted to catch a little relaxation before a job she had for him tonight.

He put down his magazine, and began to browse the crowd in the club. He wasn't looking for much outside the temporary companionship another sentient would afford him. He never tired of interacting or learning about the various races that made up galactic society. He didn't know when he'd first noticed the Asari at the bar, or what peaked his interest in the first place, just that a counter that appeared inside of his eye told him that his gaze returned to her frequently. He took a moment to analyze her.

Perhaps the first thing that caught his attention was that while most of the Asari he'd seen were dressed in very little, she was clothed in a far more conservative manner. She was as beautiful as the rest he had seen, but there was something different about her. Eager green eyes, small gaps between her canines and other teeth, the way the skin folds of her "hair" were several inches longer than most? He didn't know, but he knew he was attracted to her. He had mingled with a lot of the species, but had never touched an Asari.

_Does their skin feel scaly like it looks in their hair?_ He wondered, but shook the though from his head as he waved his hand over the table, establishing a link with the bar's network. It was a feature not many got access to and only regulars who had high levels of trust we entitled to. He drummed his fingers across the table, without having to use his omni-tool, and typed his instructions to the bartender, applied a tip, and severed the link. A minute later the bartender placed a drink in front of the blue skinned lady, and then pointed to Mark. She turned; looked surprised, and then smiled as he toasted her from across the room. She had dimples, and he thought, _she was the kind of cute that would be a blond if she was human._ It was at that moment that a veritable mountain of man stepped into view and sat across from him.

"Oy, damn it Jericho, what the hell you doing moving in and blocking the view of the skirt at the bar?" The man turned, looked the Asari over, and then returned gaze to his friend.

"Lord around us." He shook his head sadly. "If we were still on Terra, your get locked up just for looking at a gal that young." Mark looked appropriately scandalized.

"The hell are you talking about? She's easily 200."

"Yeah, in another 50 years," he snorted derisively.

"Oh yeah, and when the hell did you become a Xenobiologist and expert on Asari physiology and age gradients?"

"Let's see, um… bout 7 years ago for the first, and for the second… about the time you were getting your ass handed back to you in Alliance Basic." Mark looked dumbfounded at this, blinked a couple of times, and then toasted him without moving his elbow.

"Oh yeah, I always forget about that. So, really only one fifty, eh?" Jericho nodded, took a pull off of Mark's drink and winched.

"Yep, you can tell by the way she sits, the color of her skin, and even the slight gaps in between her canines and the rest of her teeth. Plus, her scalp is its natural color, and there is no sign of the "rebellious" attributes that both our races share at that age." Mark Grunted and settled back in his chair, arm slung over the back.

"Sheeee-it, well, if I am out getting tattoos and piercing when I hit senility, do me a favor and put me out of my misery. So, besides crushing my dreams and ruining the view, what do you want?"

"The op isn't for another…" He checked the chronograph strapped to his thick wrist, "6 hours, thought I'd get a drink 'fore I snagged a nap. Plus, I couldn't resist the urge to bug yah." Jericho shot a sly smile his way.

"Well, mission accomplished, buddy. What about Raeka and Snow?"

"Dunno, but with them, it's best not o dwell on what they might be doing."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Anyway, I'm still gonna take a run at her. Is she really the equivalent of jailbait?" Jericho shook his head at his friend's one track mind.

"Emotionally and mentally, she's probably about a teen aged girl, but the Asari don't really have a comparable aging system." Mark stared blankly at the big man, who sighed heavily. "Physically, she's perfectly mature and you'd be doing nothing wrong." Mark smiled, and rose.

"Care to join me?"

"Nah, I'm gonna go nap. Just remember this; even if she seems like a teenaged girl, odds are good she's a powerful Biotic, and if you piss her off, she could probably make you wish you'd been roasted in the factory."

"Ah, it's the way you say that, like you know what I might do, that shows just how much you love me." Mark called as Jericho walked out of the bar. He checked to ensure his quarry was still at the bar, and was irritated to see another human interacting with her. He didn't have to be a Xenobiologist to know the Asari was flustered. Mark decided to approach.

"…you that I am not hiring for the expedition from the Mercenary group you represent."

"And we have told you, you aren't going to find anyone else on this station, so you don't have any other…" The thug trailed of as Mark made his presence known.

"Howdy, friend, what's going on here?" The thug turned, and spoke in a low, poisonous tone.

"None of your damned business. Back off before you find yourself some trouble." The next was louder than the other, and sounded like gravel being pushed through a rock crusher.

"Is there a problem here?" The Krogan dwarfed the three others, and was as intimidating in looks as his voice was in sound. Mark smiled as he recognized the brute.

"Oh, hey Dozer, how's it hanging?" Mark knew the bouncer from a long time back, and had even covered his ass in a job or two.

"Well enough that your mother wasn't disappointed." He growled back, giving mark a chuckle.

"Well, thanks, but there is no problem, our friend here was just leaving." The Thug glanced at the shotgun clutched in the Krogans relaxed grip, then into the black eyes.

"Try it, human." He growled, and the Man turned ref and stalked off, followed by Dozer.

"Sorry about that guy, Ma'am, but I hope you don't judge all of us by the example such as him." The Asari seemed to visibly relax, and took another sip of her drink.

"No, of course not. I believe I have you to thank for this drink?" Her voice was soft, and cute, although not the least bit of any special flavoring was apparent. Just a friendly greeting to a stranger.

"Only if you'd like. Can I top you off...?" He let the sentence hand for a few seconds, and had to arch an eyebrow before she caught on. _Damn kids are gonna turn my hair gray._

"Oh, Tealsa D'Nooni." She offered her slender hand for a handshake. Mark reached out, grabbed the offered appendage and planted a small, dry kiss to the back of her hand.

Tealsa D'Nooni offered her hand to the strangely dressed human who had purchased her a drink and chased off the Eclipse mercenary that had been hounding her on and off since she had arrived on omega. The simply named "hand shake" was a expression brought into Citadel space by the very species that stood before her now, and, despite disapproval from the Turians, had spread with it's symbolic meaning to become a popular expression amongst all of the digited forearm species of the space. Even the Batarians had adopted the expression in subjects involving trust, of polite meetings, like this. It had caught on quickly with her own race in part because of their physiology; having a heightened control over their bodies allowed for better readings from their sense of touch. Some even claimed they could sense partial feeling and emotion from the grip. This was just another example of the quick spread of human influence throughout the Galaxy.

He reached out gently grabbed her offered arm, and immediately she felt a small jolt and thrill that shot all the way up her arm. Her eyes widened slightly, and he gave the back of her hand at the wrist joint a small kiss.

_What the hell was that?_ She thought, but what she said was:

"What the hell was that?"

Mark felt a small jolt as his finger made contact with the blue skin of the fem's hand, and cursed at himself in is head, knowing she had felt the slight shock as well. He mentally adjusted the output of the electricity reservoir located in the palm of his hand, sent the remains of the charge flashing through his nervous system, and discreetly discharged the remainder of the static into the carpeted floor. As he bent over the proffered hand, he noticed that, contrary to the scaly appearance of the "hair" skin, the hand was smoother that a comparative human hand, and very pleasant to the touch. As he planted the kiss, he also noted that the skin didn't smell all that different form a humans either, but was a slight bit sweeter, like a trace of a long ago applied perfume. He word snapped him out of his data gathering mind.

"What the hell was that?" Her voice did not hold any fear, but was more curious. He chose to ignore the possibility of the shock, and explain the gesture.

"It was a mannerism back on Old Home Terra for greeting a beautiful lady, and sadly, one that seems only to exist in records any more. I figured it was appropriate for the situation at… if you'll excuse the pun, hand." The Asari contemplated the strangely dressed human, then broke into a smile and giggled softly. Tealsa wasn't sure on what she thought about the human yet, but was intrigued. Most of the humans she had had the… occasion to meet had been similar to the Merc that was accosting her previously. Rude, angry and assuming that they owned the galaxy, assuming they were superior to the rest of the races. Yes, her race and the others had similar feelings, but generations of working together had mellowed most outward manifestations of such untoward behaviors. With such a thought toward looking for chinks in his demeanor, to see if he harbored any of the anti alien tendencies his race was so well know for, she allowed herself to be drawn into conversation.

It was two hours later, and Tealsa, as loath as she was to admit it, was drunk. She had enjoyed the intervening time to the extreme and lost track of her limit. Now, she was half supported by Mark, his hand around her waist and being walked to his apartment where she would be allowed to sleep it off while he ran some errands. Now, being drunk, she was still aware that going to a near stranger's house while intoxicated was a bad idea. But, during the time spent in his company, talk had drifted to the Merc that had been bothering her, and after another drink she told him the story. She was attached to an archeologist team of 4 other Asari, who on the station looking for some discreet escort. What a coincidence! Mark had said, he just so happened to be in the business of discretion and armed escort looking for an of station assignment. … Huh, of course, you can vet me from the extranet, here's my portable terminal… Beep! She checked the credentials in the system, and her eyes brightened. Only on Omega could you get mercenaries vetted and find sterling accolades. They talked then of her assignment. A survey team for a quickly rising company based on Thessia had found a ship of unknown origin and make buried under the crust of a small, unremarkable planet name Sphere out in the Traverse. This company had hired the small team she was with to explore the wreck and report anything of value. He then posed the obvious question: Why didn't they just send an Asari warrior attaché? She gave the simple answer, because of the extreme competitive nature of Thessia; any whisper of looking for a military escort would draw unwanted attention from said competitors.

After the hour or so of business talk (and 2 additional drinks) they moved onto personal things. She was surprised by just how charmed she was by the man, and that was how she had lost track of how much liquor she was ingesting, and arrived at her drunken state. When the time came to leave, he made the suggestion that she retire to _his_ digs rather than hers, and she, much to her own disappointment and bemusement, tried to refuse. He then made an analysis that she could process, even in her inebriated state. There was a very good chance that he and his team were going to be hired for the gig after introductions, and he was willing to put himself into her service for the night, on a strictly trial basis, free of charge. (His unstated reasoning being that she was a cute kid, and he genuinely felt a sense of affection outside of the attraction after the time spent at the bar.) He even went so far as to give a satisfactory reason for this boon. The look on the less friendly Merc, and the defiance of the giant Krogan showed him as not the sort to leave her in the care of Mark, and she was likely being tailed. Under such sensible arguments, she agreed after he pointed out she would get a chance to meet the rest of his team as well, and they left, his arm supporting her gently, but not in any offensive manner.

Mark had to admit, though not going the way he had planned, the evening could still be marked off as good, seeing that he not only had a warm, comely bundle under his arm, but she also might be able to provide some off station employment. They were making their way down a side street toward his abode, when he heard an insistent beeping noise the demanded "Hey, jackass, pay attention to me!" He recognized it as the second warning tone that something was up, and realized that he had gotten a little more sauced than he had intended, if he missed the first tone. He shifted his gaze to the upper left corner of his ocular range, and the small tracking range circle became prominent on his vision. Though the image was projected onto the inside surface of his eye, it appeared to float in mid air. The blue, semi transparent circle was covered in a grind and marked with range and bearing info. As he looked, three red dots smeared onto the point toward the bottom of the circle, indicating three hostile targets 20 meters to the rear. He switched the mode to heat and Electronic signal profiles, and the three targets grew into a biped shape of radiating heat gradients. The net in his head told him that the one trailing to his left matched the reading taken of the Merc in the club, and the other two matched basic human patterns. All three had the electric signatures for an activated pistol stashed on their person, though the big heat sig had a shotgun as well.

_Well,_ he thought, _at least I'm not getting paranoid in my advanced age._ He did not change his pace at all, but eyed an alley where he could safely engage the men without putting the Asari in danger. Without checking his tail, he ducked into alley, moved quickly, and stashed the girl in a nook on the left side of the alley.

"Those guys from the bar tailed us, stay here." She nodded, and slumped down onto the damp floor plates, watching the dim world spin. Mark looked at the walls of the nook, and noticed the uneven, haphazard manner the walls had been created, located a handhold, and climbed the wall.

The first of the goon rounded the corner, pistol raised, ready to waste the… nothing. He waited a few seconds for the other two, and then the three of them stepped into the alley intent on pursuing their quarry. At ten feet into the alley, Mark hit them. The overload hit all three of them, washing them in savage electricity as it arced between the walls and floor, and swept past the startled men. This was not the average overload employed by engineers to disable barriers and overheat weapons, but one that gained a healthy boost from conducting within Marks bones and leaching extra power from his own prosthetics. If anyone had seen the blast, they would have witnessed what looked like a miniature lightning storm engulfed the thugs. Mark was used to thee tingling sensation and the pain generated by the abuse of his parts, and worked through it, dropping down and advancing on the startled men. All of their weapons had not just overheated, but simply exploded, scorching the hard point mounts on the men's legs, and removing the hand of the third who had been holding his. The 4 inch, hook shaped blade whispered through the air as it caught the man missing a hand in the throat, ending his existence prior to the scream as he realized his hand was gone. The second followed suit, but the third, large man managed to block the knife, getting it lodged in his arm. The unexpected parry led the knife to be jerked from his grip, still embedded in the others forearm. Mark lost no time on it though, and the heaver, longer combat knife slid from the scabbard on his lower back and was buried in the man's chest a second later. He gurgled as he quickly died. Mark removed both blades, cleaned them on the offenders clothing, and returned them to their homes. He then retuned to the nook to find Tealsa zonked on against the wall, snoring softly. He sighed with a smile, roused her, and continued the short journey to his flat as the urchins moved in to loot the bodies of the discarded goons.

Tealsa had sobered up a smidge, and noticed a slightly coppery smell, but was thankfully not nauseous. She was, however, extremely sleepy. She was even drifting off just with the rhythmic motion of Mark pulling her along. She hardly noticed when he shifted, pulled the key out of his pocked and opened the door.

Mark shuffled over the threshold, and reached back, closing the door. As he turned his attention back to his foyer, a human girl stepped out of a side door into the room.

She was about 5'7, with very dark, reddish brown hair. She had a pleasantly shaped, oval face and was stunningly beautiful. She stood in bare feet, wearing a small pair of boxer styled panties, and a light blue and white vertical striped long sleeved button up shirt. All of the buttons were unclasped, showing a wide strip of pale flesh from chin to panty line, showing the slightly rounded curves in the valley between her breasts, a slender waist, and the flat, hard plane of her stomach. Just above and to the left of her navel, the pale white line of a scar started, rounded downward across her side, and continued up her back, ending directly between her shoulder blades, shaped like an upside down question mark. It was made several years ago when an explosion threw oddly shaped piece shrapnel carved the path into her skin. Her ribs were slightly visible every time she exhaled. Her head slanted inquisitively, but she did not question the presence of the Asari. Her large crimson eyes glittered as she smiled, showing small, white teeth.

"Good evening, Mark, busy night?"

"Hey, Snow. Not busy, but interesting." He replied as she threaded a single button out of difference of the guest. Snow had been he third to join Marks…family, after Jericho. She had been a member of C-Sec and was investigating some purported gang activity when her and her unit triggered an ambush. All of the others were killed when out of nowhere; the two of them had shown up and pulled her ass out of the fire. They gave her a chance to go with them, and she decided, what the hell, and decided to go along. That was four years ago, and she never regretted it for a second. She learned the pleasures of not just being proficient in the use of specialized equipment, but that of actually getting to help someone, not just filter through papers and disappointment. She learned that she was a crack shot with a high caliber sniper rifle, and could now out shoot some professional snipers form the various military sniper school vets.

"Hmm…" she grinned "looks that way. You know you're getting blood on the lady's clothes?" Mark didn't and added the proper amount of sarcasm.

"I _had_ noticed, thank you. You have anything she could borrow for the night; I got into this state by covering her from some unfriendly strangers."

"Yes, of course." She turned to the more aware Asari. "If you will come with me, Ma'am, we'll get you some bed clothes, and pop those in the wash." Tealsa stood, and walked shakily after the diminutive beauty. They walked through a large, carpeted den, where a Quarian sat on a plush, blue couch, her skin tight blue and green pressure suit with its golden trim standing out in the dim room. Mark plopped down on the couch as the two gals walked past a kitchen, where a large greenish red rock sat in a pool filled with sand off in a corner, and then into one of the flats bedrooms.

"Hey, Raeka, you know that the Stereo tank isn't on right?" Mark queried the Quarian.

"Shhh, it's almost over!" Her soft voice was near reverent as she eyed the empty screen. Mark had very little experience with a paternal sort of love, having no kids, but he imaged that the feeling he had for the Quarian was close to what the feeling was. The mixture of pride at whom she had become, and anger and pity for her background, and the general affection he had for her was a strange, but natural reaction, he thought. He had found her in an alley on Noveria, garbed in a patched and filthy suit, not even begging like most of the nomads encountered on the planet. She was just sitting, and even though he couldn't see her face, the despair and air of having given up was palpable. He had managed to get her to join him for a meal, and listened to her story. While on her pilgrimage, she had been captured by slavers, and sold to a company on the planet. Within the confines of the company's building, she described the tortures she had undergone by the people who were looking for a new medication to help bolster the Quarian's immune system. They did make a break through, though some of the tests and procedures were so invasive, and the girl's status as a slave mitigating her need for care, that part of her sanity had shattered. Mark had put her up in an apartment with Snow, who helped clean her up and give her some company, while he and Jericho went out.

2 days latter they retuned, carrying several data cubes containing the data of the project, and samples of the boosters developed for the girl. While staying with the threesome, her status improved, and she sent the obtained data and samples with a currier to the flotilla, and was allowed to stay while she awaited the opinion of the admirals on the info obtained. When new came back, she learned the items had been accepted as her contribution to the fleet, real, un harmful research was being conducted based on the findings provided, and her name would be honored within the flotilla for the monumental benefits her terrible ordeal had generated. Also, other branches of the company conducting the research would be dealt with when encountered. Rather than return to the flotilla now that her pilgrimage was complete, she opted to stay with the human who had helped her so, and had proven a reliable, and helpful ally, especially where robotics were concerned. Her mental state was far improved too, although like now, she was still prone to occasional, erratic behavior. He shook his head, stood and moved to a chest high work bench against the wall, and activated the recessed lighting that lit the surface of the table from underneath the ceiling mounted hood. He removed the large combat knife and the hooked blade, recovered a small box, removed the cleaning supplies and began to clean the blades. A few minutes later, Snow returned with the Asari dressed in a t-shirt and pair of baggy pajama pants.

"Where would you like to put Miss D'Nooni, Mark?" He didn't look up, but just waved with his left hand.

"Stick her in my room, then kindly move your lazy carcass and get Jericho up, we leave in 45 minutes." He returned to cleaning and prepping his kit, and Snow gave his back a big grin, and a hearty one finger salute before leading the dazed Asari away. She was asleep almost before she hit the bed, and Snow covered her with the blanket. It was kept comfortable in the apartment, but with a bit of chill in the air, so it always felt nice under the covers. She then left the room, rousted Jericho and retired to her own room to prepare. At exactly the time specified by mark, all four left the house, strapped with their tools of war. Raeka and Snow went one way, and Mark and Jericho another. Their was a job to do, and it promised to be a good run.

**Well, hope it works for any one with the unfortunate luck to have made it this far. For whatever horrifying reasons that could have drove you to it, I am sorry. (Also for it being so very long (by my standards and yes, I parenthesized in side the parenthesis, twice.))) Anyway, to show that my kleptomania is not limited to this marvelous franchise, I will now give some additional credits. The Name "D'Nooni" was the name of a ship in the third **_**Legion of the Damned**_** novel by William C. Dietz**_**, **_**but I liked it, so I repurposed it. Also, any who have happened across the other wordy nonsense I occasionally spew on the net will recognize the inserts of modern day firearm designs that I love. Also, not sure here, I may have canibilized some plot from something else I penned (Er, word processed) but I pay so little attention it's hard to know. Any way, thank you, and I'll try and keep it shorter in the future, and might ven make it interesting, but probably not.**


	2. Chapter 2

Mass Effect: Extinction

**Damn, only one installment in, and already making a correction. The D'Nooni was featured in the **_**second**_** "Legion of the Damned" novel. Anyway on to the next. Also, very gory part in here, so, you know, you've been warned. (also, I would like to thank um… on second while I look it up, my memory is shit… uh … ah, here we are, thank you, NaturalBorn Paragon, for reading the first installment.)**

Disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect.

**#2: Firefights and bad lines.**

The stars glittered in the velvet depths of space, but the two figures paid no mind as they wove through the maze of heat exchangers, conduits and com pods that bristled across the outer hull of the station. The plan was for Snow and Raeka to cross into the enemy territory across the outside of the station, descend stealthily, take the high ground, and be ready to support the boys when they broke in. He and Raeka had managed to extract security camera footage, and using the mosaic of images provided, build a rough blueprint of the space. Two long rectangular box rooms full of containers and other cargo were connected to a side arterial and each other via a single, 3 meter wide corridor where cargo and various types of crap were keep clear. The path ended in front of a bulk head door that lead into a largish office area, where the Mercs would emerge once the raid was signaled, and fan out in attempt to halt the invaders from moving down the only path available. Luckily for the team, all such spaces located just inside the stations skin were blanketed with miles of maintenance catwalks that ran parallel to the gently curving Ceiling. Raeka paused, signaling that she'd located the correct hatch, and Snow moved up quickly and gracefully despite the magnets gripping her feet to the hull plates. To Snow, the hatch appeared to be just a simple square of metal, and was amazed when the Quarian activated her Omni-tool, typed a flurry of quick commands, and the plate lifted, revealing a one person air lock. Snow shook her head slightly.

_I guess maybe there are some advantages to living your entire life within a vast fleet of ceaselessly traveling ships._ She thought,as she motioned to let her descend first, wait 5 minutes, and then follow. She didn't think the thugs were equipped to monitor their radios, especially outside the station, but with only the small group of invaders, the need for secrecy called to not take that chance. She pushed her self down in the coffin sized pressure lock, used the recessed button to secure it, and waited a full minute while the pressure equalized, and the green ready light blinked on. She had climbed in head first, forgetting that once pressure was established, the lack of gravity would be gone, and was no sitting on her head on the hatch leading inside. Cursing herself, she flexed, and managed to brace herself against the walls with her legs, and after what seemed like an eternity, worked the little used flywheel from its rusted hold. The lock released, and the door slid quietly open, and would have dumped her noisily to the catwalk if she hadn't the sense to stay braced. She then carefully lowered herself until she could reach under the edged of the ceiling, felt around, found a hand hold, and flipped herself right side up and lowered her onto the catwalk four feet below. She then reached back up and dogged the hatch for Raeka.

The hatch had ended in one of the first rooms natural corners, and happened to be one of the corners where the containers were piled up _past_ the catwalks, serving to shield it from view from the rest of the space. She peered around one corner of the cargo and surveyed the area. She counted 10 armed troopers meandering through the maze of junk below, and another 2 armed with scoped rifles moving along the catwalks. Her eyebrow rose slightly, wondering about the activity. The twelve people covered about a third of the force that estimated to be stationed here, and considering that is was around midnight local time, that many troops didn't bode well. She didn't have time to analyze it further though, as she had to neutralize the snipers and setup before Mark and Jericho could advance. Raeka had no trouble with the position of the lock, and dropped silently down next to Snow, who touched helmets and gave a brief rundown of what she saw, and the plan to take the 2 snipers out. Raeka nodded, unsheathed the plain knife that Mark made her carry, and slipped away to handle sentry 2. Snow's own smaller blade had designs etched into the blade, and hung hilt forward under her left arm. She drew it and snuck off to her own target,

The small booth faced the secondary arterial and was backed by the doors that lead to the local Eclipse headquarters. The Turian on duty stared lazily down the hall, wondering what possible threat his boss could have imagined would attempt to breach their sector in an area not under Aria's thumb. He yawned, his mandibles stretching and his pointed teeth gleaming in the light. He abruptly stopped as he felt cold metal on the back of his head, put his hand slowly up, and stood. He then turned, and was startled at the human in body armor pointing a strange black metal device at his head, with his other hand clutching a small metal wedge point forward.

"What the hell do you want, _human_?" The distain in his voice was clear, but the humans face was blank.

"Your clothes. Give them to me." His voice was gruff., and the Turian looked incredulous.

"What? Are you crazy, the…" The human cut him off.

Yeah, a little." He shrugged, and drove the knife in his left hand through the plates over the Turians right temple. He let the body fall, the using his omni-tool, opened the large door, its noise serving to alert the Merc's. He had sent message to the leader of the Mercs earlier, alerting them of a planed attack that night, needing to draw the majority into the maze of cargos rather than the slaughter zone in the last room. His team could take a bunch of guys in twisting passages and blocks, not a wall of 30 rifles and no cover. He dashed in the warehouse, sliding behind cover as the rounds started rolling out. There was no door between the two rooms, and the 20 Mercs in the next room could here as the battle begun, but did nothing as it was their job to prevent further access. They didn't worry however, because even though the ones in the first room were new recruits, they had been here for a few weeks, and should have a home field advantage.

Jericho had always been a cerebral kind of guy. He had been the sole instructor at a school in a small colony on… wow, he couldn't even remember the planets name. But like most small colonies in the traverse, it was eventually raided by Batarian slavers. They killed a lot, but saved one like Jericho for sale. Now, Jericho liked the children that the aliens had slaughtered, and wasn't really fond of being a slave. He didn't like to think of his escape and requisition of the pirates Corvette, all that he would say was that it was handy to be able to crush a Batarian with your bare hands. He never mentioned his years with the Alliance navy prior, or the decorations received when he brought the small ship into port at the citadel with the remainder of the colonists. He had opted to continue schooling after that, and had studied the neighbor species with interest, especially the Asari, whose natural biotics and long lives fascinated him. He had just completed his advanced study on Ilium when he met Mark, and they were both looking for… something. They had toured with a couple of different groups, but they were not satisfied by the arrangements, being more likely to get shot by their teammates that their opponents. After a while, and a act of revenge after a bad deal, found out they worked better on their own, and started out making a name for themselves. The schlepped around the Citadel for a while, figuring that a place full of politicians would be a booming place to start up a "pay per kill" type of service, but both fortunately and unfortunately, business prospects were bleak. But, they had the good fortune to meet Snow, and added her to their roster, and eventually, their family. They had also heard about Omega, on the fringe of civilized space, and made that their destination, and along the way, picked up the Quarian, and now she was part of their unconventional family too. He remembered her asking once why his name was simply Jericho. He had had a big interest in earth's ancient history, and due to his size, often had received nick names of ape-ish quality, so after the slaver incident, decided to take a new name that referenced it and but none of those idiots would get. Jericho was one of the earliest human settlements back in the early days of their evolution when they were still practically monkeys. That was one of the things he liked about Mark, is that he knew where his name was from. Thinking of this, he smiled as he brought the rocket launcher to his shoulder, and blew a cluster of 4 Mercs to jello as Mark dropped one with a burst of his assault weapon. Two loud cracks echoed across the area, and another rattle sounded as Snow and Raeka finished of the green Mercs. The girls descended to the ground floor and then stacked up on the left side of the opening leading into the next area, while the men stacked on the right. The area was much the same, but they figured the Mercs inside were veterans.

Now, most soldiers had a standardized kit, and with the "advancements" made in the field of killing the living shit out of things with guns, hand thrown grenades had been phased out along with combat knives in favor of more modern, completely interchangeable ammo types and kit. But Mark loved antique weapons and used what worked. That was why, when he had been tinkering with his arms and legs, he had decided to toy with some designs. That is why he had finally settled on a design that suited his tastes. The result was a small, 6 inch tall cylinder, 2 inches in diameter, stowed in recesses under the skin of his underarm with a recessed arming button. He had rejected the round and disk shape for a cylinder, but he didn't exactly know why. In his left arm was an incendiary, and his right was a flash bang. But for this mission, he loaded up to special pineapples to be carried in his external kit. He held both in one hand, hit the primer, and tossed 'em backhanded into the corridor. Bullets pinged of the floor as the Mercs beyond fired at the movement. With a chuffing noise, the grenades skin exploded, and white smoke billowed to envelop the entrance to the room. All four of them dashed forward, staying low, fanned out, and moved through the confusion. Mark swept side ways, found a Turian whose back was facing him, and reached for his combat knife hanging hilt down from a hard point on his chest armor. He wrapped his left arm around the soldiers neck, swept his left leg out from under him, forcing his chest skyward. He then drove the blade into his chest, the kinetic barriers not triggered by the less that terminal velocity of the bladed instrument. Dark blue blood welled from the wound, and he released the body when it stopped moving, and continued moving. The important thing was to get away from the door before the Mercs could regroup.

Snow ran strait at Jericho, who caught her foot in his cradled hands, and launched her over his head. She rolled a landing across the roof of a shipping crate and came up running. She needed to gain the high ground, and establish position for her modified M-92 Mantis sniper rifle could do the most good. Jericho meanwhile pulled out his own assault weapon and had begun the carnage as a Salarian launched an incineration into the murk and was torn to bloody ribbons and broken armor plates. Raeka was far forward, and had accounted for four kills as her Submachine gun and it disrupter rounds overloaded shields and found the soft layers of armored joints. She had just reloaded her thermal clip when a biotic push sent her slamming into thee side of a container, and the gun spiraling away. Her suit was out layered with a light armor type, and absorbed quite a bit of the force of impact, but she still felt what would be bruises all along her left side. The Asari who had fired the push turned, and was firing at the large man now, his shield flaring as he retreated behind cover. Raeka was pissed, and her grip on the real world was fading. The Asari shifted in appearance, the yellow armor shifting into a white lab coat, and the gun into an injector. They were back to administer more drugs, to make her sick and give her scabs and sores and things she could even understand. But the torturous bitch wouldn't get the chance this time. For some reason she didn't quite understand, there was and edge weapon secured to her suit under her left breast. She slid it out, relishing the feel of the hilt as what little primal instincts were left after generations aboard spacecraft had changed their physiology. A growl escaped her clenched jaw, and she clawed forward, rising to her feat as she charged headlong at the scientist. The Asari turned, to late to hit her with the tranquilizer she wanted to bring to bear. Surprise and fear crossed into the bitches eyes as the Quarian lunged. The tackle lifted the Asari off her feet, throwing her on her back and sliding her a full 3 feet from the force. The Asari didn't care, however, as the snarling Quarian's blade struck her neck, stuck in the bone of her spine, then withdrew. Two more slashes were sufficient to part the head from the neck in a spray of the dead Mercs blood, which pooled around the body. Raeka was not done, riled into a blood fury that harkened back to before the Quarians had achieved sentience.

Jericho waited for his sheilds to recharge, prayed that Raeka was ok. He turned back, aimed, and stopped, astonished by what he saw. The Asari was down, her head having rolled slightly to the side. Her blood was splattered out for about three feet on all sided, one of her arms had been torn off at the elbow, and she had been disemboweled, random organs lay in piles where they had been thrown as the Quarian continued to tear the body to shreds. He hadn't ever seen anything like the act of savagery outside of his own race or the Krogan, and that it was at the hands of such a polite and friendly young lady served to freeze him in place, stupefied. He could do nothing as a Turian walked up, carefully edging closer, looked through the sights on his shotgun, and collapsed as a hole appeared in his forehead and the crack of Snow's rifle echoed in the space.

As the Turian slumped to the deck, Snow worked the archaic bolt that fed the rice grain sized projectile into firing chamber. There were three combatants left on the field, and she was determined to nail at least two of them. A human was working her way to Jericho's rear as he watched Raeka destroy the Asari's corpse. Besides the bolt that had been added, there was also a switch installed by the trigger guard. It laid a micro thin layer of a liquid explosive inside of the barrel of the rifle, which the projectile passed through, coating the round. The explosive was inactive in its liquid state, and the heat generated around the bullet cooked the explosive dry, so that the round detonated on impact. She fingered the switch, and waited. The Merc appeared behind Jericho, raised a pistol to the back of his head, and was amazed to find that her elbow exploded and her forearm spun away in a spray of blood. The spray of liquid on his back served to bring Jericho back to his senses. He swerved, jammed the barrel of his own shotgun into the woman's stomach and fired. The blast cut the woman in half, the top half falling to the floor twitching, and the legs stood on their own for another 3 seconds before falling. Snow worked the action, adjusted her aim, and popped the head of the final Merc. She slung the rifle, drew her pistol, and dropped to the floor. She walked toward Raeka, who had reduced the body to some chunks of bones and gore, and the haze had worn off. The entire front of her armor was drenched in the Asari's blood, and dripped off as wiped some of it off her face plate.

"Damn, Rae, you ok?" Snow asked, not hesitating to get in close to the Quarian. She trusted her fully, and had no worries, even after the grizzly scene here. She never got to answer as an Asari flanked by two Turians, all armed with machine guns and pointing at one of crew.

"I don't know who the fuck you are, or what your doing here, but your about to die, you little pieces of…" her words were cut off as a thunderous boom echoed, causing the two Turians to jump, and the top of the Asari's head to fly off, peppering the three others with bits of brain. 7 more booms thundered out, as the Turians died, and Mark stepped out from behind a crate, and looked over the other three, ejecting the thermal clip of his 1911 and slotting a fresh one..

"I have to say, Raeka, that that was either the most awesome, or the most horrifying thing I have ever seen. Good job." The Quarian gave a precise salute, but because of the face mask, he could tell if she was being sarcastic, but chose to assume she was. "Alright, people, I'm going to burn what we came here to destroy, you guys loot the corpses, and then let's get the hell out of here; I'm ready for bed." He turned and the other three wandered off, cautious in case they missed someone. Mark entered the final room, which was a 12 by 12 box full of com terminals, and other office type equipment. He opened the left underarm portion of his armor, then his arm itself, removing the cylindrical grenade. He tossed it in and the backed out, quickly. The metal split and exploded away, and flammable powder blossomed out and coated the walls, while a second layer floated in the air. Three seconds later, a scrap of metal from the devices core made a spark, and the entire space, erupted in flames, melting metal and vaporizing other less resilient material. The cause of the raid was specifically to do as much damage as possible, and leave evidence that someone other than Aria was behind it, thus the burning of the office space. The message was to be clear, Aria wasn't the only one to worry about, and enemies were everywhere. He sighed and rejoined his squad as they went into the main hallway. He draped his arm over the Quarian, and gave her a one armed walking hug.

"Rae, I think we may have to hose you off before you go inside." She giggled and then they all laughed along.

Mark flopped down on the big, squooshy couch, in just his t-shirt and boxers, the Asari gal was passed out in his bed, and he was just to beat to try anything else. He pulled up a pillow under his head and a blanket over his body. He settled as was just beginning to drift when she crawled over him. It was dark, but he knew it was Snow because of the lack of pressure suit and the way she flowed into right where she fit perfectly. She was wearing what she had had on when he had arrived home earlier, and his arm went around her and rested on the flat of her stomach, and she was pleasantly warm in the cool of the room. She was highly empathic, almost to the point of telepathy, and knew that he was simply sleepy, but could feel the pleasure at her company to, and grinned as she snuggled into his chest.

"So," she purred, "if you didn't bring the girl home for a bundle, why did you bring her home?"

"She was being dogged by some thugs, and she's a nice girl. Plus, we're going to meet her mates tomorrow, and if we leave a good impression, we might get some off station work."

"Hmm, sounds good. One more, why do you carry that ancient looking gun, the pistol, instead of a regular model?" He sighed.

"Because, my dear, the guns they put out these days are all function, without the form. The model 1911 .45 caliber pistol is, well,… ah, it is the firearm version of you, beautiful, deadly, and without peer." He planted a small kiss on her for head, and she smiled a s they drifted off to sleep.


	3. Not A Morning Person

Mass Effect: Extinction

**Part three, oh, and the line said to the initial Turian was from one of the Terminator movies.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect.

**#3: Not a Morning person.**

Tealsa woke up feeling good. Well, much better than she had any right to feel, anyway. She recounted what happened the night before; found she had made no grievous errors. She was lying on her left side, facing inward on the bed in the man's… er.. Mark's house, who was going with her to meet Sileen in an attempt to gain the contract for private security that they were offering.

She opened her eyes, and was face to face with the most horrifying thing she had ever seen. Two black dots extended on two stalk like protrusions set above a set of continuously moving mandibles. Two thick appendages protruded from the same end of the plate shaped thing, terminating in large vice like pinchers while 4 thinner struts supported it on each side and a reddish brown mixed with earthy green, hard looking carapace. The most horrifying aspect, however, was that the thing was enormous, easily larger than the pillow it was perched over. Tealsa screamed and pushed herself backward, falling out of the bed and onto the floor, where another of the creatures was snuffling about her shoes. Exactly 12 seconds later the door flew open revealing Mark and Snow, covering high and low with their pistols respectively. He looked around, then realized that the Asari wasn't in danger.

Oy! Sprinkles, what the hell are you doing on the bed?" The thing didn't respond, but continued whatever unidentifiable act it was in the process of doing.

"Luna's in here too." Snow pointed out, standing up and closing her shirt with a single button again, which still left little to the imagination. She walked over, and lifted the enormous creature on the floor, while Mark grabbed the on the bed.

"W-w-what is a Sprinkles?" Tealsa finally sputtered out. Mark walked out, placed the thin in the kitchen, and then returned.

"Sprinkles is his name," he said sitting on the bed, scratching himself and stretching. "He's named after his favorite food. When I'm bored, I just throw a handful of them on the floor, and he'll scuttle around for hours picking 'em up and eating them one at a time." He got a blank stare from the girl, and continued. "They are from Earth; A species called the Coconut crab, and are the largest of their type of life form found on land." She shuddered.

"Ugh, they are awful."

"Maybe originally, but you'd be surprised the things you can accomplish with enough cash and some biogeneticist who doesn't mind dicking around with an animals make up. Anyway, when are we supposed to meet your team lead?" He asked, laying back on to the bed.

The Asari got to her feet off the floor, and brushed her borrowed clothing straight.

"I'd like to change, and after that, any time you'd like."

"Cool, Raeka got a cut in her suit last night, so she's gonna stay here, and Jericho gonna stick around and look after her." He didn't mention that she had punctured her own suit while reducing the Asari Mercenary to a liquid, or the raid that had allowed that confrontation to take place. "So, if it's ok, it's going to be me and Snow." Tealsa nodded. "Good," he hooked his thumb over his shoulder, "bathrooms back there." He stood and followed her out of the room, and split off as she entered the bathroom and went into the living area, followed by Snow. Jericho was laid back, watching the Stereo Tank in the reclining section of the couch; the Quarian was wrapped in a heavy blanket, her visored head resting on the large man's shoulder. Snow reached out patted the girls shoulder.

"How you doing, Rae?" Raeka was feeling fine, the "research" conducted on her had improved her immune system enormously, and it had been hours before she discovered the cut in her suit, and the splash of blood that had seeped in. Just the same, she patched it, and was swimming in a sea of antibiotics and other medications, to be safe and due to the years of habit that backed the action up.

"I'm doing fine, Sergeant, they didn't take me back. I showed the dirty bitch doctor!" Snow smiled at the crazy girl.

"And they are never going to take you back, because your with us now, and forever." The Quarian nodded contentedly, and snuggled in as Jericho wrapped his arm across her sholders.

(...)

They had chosen to take the scenic route, it seemed to Mark, as he walked behind Tealsa and Snow to the housing community where the group was put up. It had been 20 minutes since they had left Mark's digs, and Snow had quickly engaged the Asari in conversation, and now seemed to be best friends. He sighed. Such was Snow's personality. He knew she was empathetic to the point of being basically telepathic, but doubted she herself knew it. She could just naturally read a persons movements, emotions and hell, even feelings so well, that she could make a stubborn donkey move it's… well, ass with a single word. It made her a artist, yes, a fucking artist at ambushes, and was one of the reasons she was such a great sniper. Like Twain once said, "You got to know what makes the frog Jump," or some similar noise. Snow could tell what made it jump, what it ate for breakfast, and if he'd been getting any on a regular basis just from hearing a single croak. It would have bugged the shit out of him if she wasn't also the sweetest and most humble person he'd ever met. He sighed again, and followed the girls who were… shit, they were giggling and holding hands, like they'd known eachother for years. Some days, it really didn't pay to bring a drunken gal home and murder three guys that meant her harm, you know?

It was another ten minutes of silent, unemotional grousing before they reached the track, got cleared by the guards at the entrance, and knocked on the door. To Mark's substantial surprise, it was a Turian fem that answered the door instead of an Asari like he'd expected.

"Tealsa, there you are! We were worried when you didn't come home last night." She shifted her gaze and looked Mark and Snow up and down, once. "What's with the humans."

Her voice could best be described as flinty. Hell if Mark knew why he felt that, but it was what it was. She had a lean, bristly body that would have fit a large jungle cat from Earth's history and skin the color of pale leather. Her face added to the predatory cat image, with her large, intelligent eyes, flat nose, and sharp teeth. Strangely, even the flayed out mandibles gave him the Cat impression, and for about the hundredth time, he wondered where the hell the bird image everyone was always going to came from, maybe people were just stupid. Probably. Her face was lightly tattooed in ink about two shades darker than her skin, with a dual set of short bars under each eye, off each side of her nose, and from her lower lip to chin. Pale regions showed signs of previous tattooing being removed. The eyes themselves were sharp and curious rather than suspicious, and lacked any sign of coldness.

"This is Mark Dietrich and Miss Snow, Sileen, and they run a private security operation of the type we are looking for, and I offered them the chance to meet you." The Turian looked them up and down again and then moved aside so they could enter, which they did. When the door closed, she pointed to Mark, said "come and make your pitch," and walked into another section of the house, without bidding him to follow. Once in a small room, she sat backwards in a chair, leaning her folded arms on the back, leaving him standing. Needless to say, he liked this lady, as there was no sign of the bullshit that was usually thrown around at this type of thing. Plus, Being a Turian meant that she had a background in the military, which boded well where defensive allotments were concerned.

"Greetings…Mark." She had caught herself almost referring to him as human, which most of the illogical beings considered rude when a Turian did so. "I am Sileen Orcahe, and I am the leader of this group." The name triggered a memory in Mark's mind, and the net pulled up the file from it's memory banks, presenting a picture of the Turian, but with a full face of tattoos from years ago.

"I know you," he started, and the Turian registered a look of surprised. "Well, I mean I read about you. You were a prominent member of that anti-human group, the uh, what was it… oh, yeah, the "The Heart of Palaven" that was formed after the first contact war, right?" If he had been more familiar with Turian nonverbal communication, he would have noticed the dip of mandibles that signaled shame.

"I was, yes." She said, eyeing the man for reaction, he was not offended looking, she thought, but seemed pleased. "Correct me if I am mistaken, but you seem pleased about this." He looked surprised, then his face returned to nuetral.

"Oh, sorry, I was surprised I remembered it, not a lot of humans are aware of the group, to my knowledge anyway."

"Oh." She said, understanding the self gratifying feeling at the type of accomplishment, but even if he was lying, she felt the situation was still good. "I was, yeas ago, but as your species meshed better with society, I began to doubt, and after the rescue of the council at the Battle of the Citadel, where the human, um…"

"Shepard." Mark filled the name for her.

"Yes, Shepard, thank you, had the human fleet engage the Geth to save the council, I felt that maybe you were not so bad after all. I left soon after. Many, however, felt that your admittance on to the council was a bad step, and another indicator of your races urge for dominance that only increased their paranoia. They became increasingly violent and eventually were forced underground, and now operate much along the lines of your own races group, Cerberus, as an enemy to all." Sileen felt that calling out an equally xenophobic human organization would put her back on even footing, and Mark was quietly pleased that the Turian wanted to keep him on equal ground rather than try and push for an advantage. He Felt that this meant there was a chance for cooperation.

"Well, as I am sure it was with your own group, not all are fanatical crazies, but just people who were looking to belong or were cast offs from other segments of society. I have actually met a number of Cerberus personnel, and most of them were fairly nice people." His tone was neutral, and his face was blank. The Turian did a remarkable job of hiding her embarrassment about being out maneuvered by a human, and was about to reply when a knock came at the door, and the female human peeked in.

"Boss, we got trouble, at least five Eclipse, all armored, at least one heavy." Snow was holding a M-5 Phalanx heavy pistol, the blue laser sight leaving a dot as she held it at ease, finger along the side and off the trigger.

"Shit, ok…" Mark thought quick, He knew that besides the hand gun, She had a knife, and which none of them went anywhere without. He himself had three hand held knives, a half dozen throwing knives, and his 1911. "Ok, Sileen, Tealsa, I need you to go hunker down while we deal with this situation." The Turian was up out of her chair by then.

"The hell with that. I can defend my girls myself, else I would not have been placed in charge of this outing." Mark again gained respect for the Turian.

"Ok, fine, what's the furthest room from the front of the apartment, and is anyone else here right now?" Mark asked.

"The Bathroom, and no, the other three are out on business."

"Alright, good, Tealsa, are you able to create a barrier?" Tealsa had followed Snow into the room, and looked worried.

"No, while I have had some training in combat Biotics, I was never any good at barriers."

"Alright, here," he shucked his vest, and gave it to the startled Asari. "It's made of a composite armor, and boasts a strong enough kinetic barrier to block a coupla stray shots. Hunker down in the bathroom, and wait for the clear." He waved her off, and thankfully, she went without question. By this time, Sileen had materialized two blue Predator pistols, and was following him and Snow into the living area. Snow took cover by the exit door, and started slowly sliding it open, while Mark grabbed the metal table with one hand, and slide it out of the way.

The big plastic window into the center of the complex was veiled by cheap blinds, and by taking the corner of it by Snow, he could gaze into the street. Sileen, pistols ready, took the other as a heavily armored Turian flanked by 4 other Mercs moved forward, assault weapon resting easily in his hands. Snow had worked the door open about a foot by that time, and without exposing herself, shouted to the obvious leader.

"What do you want?" The Turian stopped his smugly confident walk, and the preditory smile was evident on his face.

"We want you to send out the little Asari bitch that iced our compadres lat night. We know she's in there, and if you co-operate, none of you will be harmed, human." The Merc's voice was brash and confident. Mark looked over and put his finger to his lips, motioning for Sileen to remain quiet, then turned and nodded to Snow.

"Ok, deal, give us one minute." She shouted back. Mark had already lifted the skin panel under his right forearm, and was removing the flash bang he had secreted there. He snapped it closed, and was about to hand the grenade to Snow when he noticed something, and spoke in an angry whisper.

"Hey! Are those my jeans?" He had just realized that the girls blue pants look familiar.

"Yes." She replied bluntly, hand outstretched, completely unperturbed.

"Damn it! No wonder I couldn't find them this morning. Why the hell would you steal my pants?"

"_You_ left them on the floor, so I figured free to good home. Besides, they make my as look _Amazing!_" She snatched the grenade from his hand, and swivled, still crouched, back to face the door, bending a little farther forward, and really highlighting the curve of the butt.

"Girl, you don't need to steal my stuff, your ass has ALWAYS been perfect." He reached out and slapped her posterior to add weight to his words, and was pleased with the firm noise that it made. Sileen was surprised at the exchange, but was familiar with humans behaving strangely, and managed to stay quiet.

"Alright, don't shoot! Here she comes!" The call was sufficient to draw the Turians, 3 humans, and sole Asari's eyes to the door. Snow put her back to the wall, and chucked the canister underhanded through the door, which all five sets of eyes tracked, untill it bounced and settled in front of the Turian.

Oh, Shi…" The boom of the device going off drowned out his expletive, and dazzled all five with its flash. The four flankers all dove sideways into cover, and waited for the flash to wear off. The Turian was still standing when Snow popped low out of cover, and peppered his barriers with powerful slugs. Being preoccupied, he didn't notices as the first four shots took down his shield, but he did notice when the fifth slammed into the point of his elongated chest armor, slamming him onto his back, and shattering his armor like an eggshell. Snow popped back into cover as the surviving Mercs opened fire on the front of the building with there assault rifles. Metal pinged as the three of them got as low as possible, and deep cracks swept through the plastic window with each impact.

The Asari composed herself, summoned the dark energy envelope, and compressed it into an ellipsoid, and shot the Biotic throw into the stressed window, shattering it and sending the razor sharp shards at lethal velocity into the apartment. A few imbedded themselves into the metal wall beyond, but most lost kinetic energy on impact and bounced harmlessly onto the floor or shattered. One, however, hit at just the right angle to ricochet and hit Sileen, slicing a small gash across the side of her head, just under the eye, causing blue blood to well up and seep down her face. Mark had known the window was toast at the first shot, and had begun charging his right arms capacitors immediately, but the widow exploded earlier than predicted, and the Merc had chosen that moment to reload.

So the overload was not fully overcharged when he fired it, meaning less pain for him, but less effective. The wave of electricity swept the combatants. One of the human's shields flared solid and his weapon exploded _inside_ of the cocoon of its protective radius, scorching his skin and shredding his body with shrapnel. When the barrier popped, blood had already pooled to his knees, and spread before the body could hit the ground. The Asari's and one humans shields popped, and thier thermal clips ejected, overheated. The final human's weapon's clip release safety failed, and the clip absorbed so much heat that the weapon itself started to melt. He cast it aside quickly, and pulled out his side arm.

Mark swore, hoping for more combatants down when Snow's single remaining shot granted his wish, and the pistol wielder was dropped. At this point, the Turian, whose thick armor had blocked most of the bullet's effect, said up, and turned on his grenade launcher. The rounds made a hollow "Ca-Chunk" noise as they flew in a flat arc and impacted the wall under the window. The first grenade hit the portion of the abused wall Mark was behind, denting it inward and knocking him back. The second hit where Sileen had been, but she had rolled away before that could happen. The third punctured the ballooning wall and speared the interior with foot long shards of metal. At this point Sileen stepped into the breach, dual Predators aloft, and began firing. Such was the precision of the Turians aim, that each bullet hit its mark. With each bark of the pistol, a barrier flared or blood and bone flew. As the first twelve shots flew from each pistol, she turned her attention to the thermal clips suspended at an angle from the inside surface of each gun, She slid the side loading pistols together, matching the clips to receivers, and then ratcheting the guns in opposite directions, rearming them and snapping the clip holders off.

The entire action took a second and a half, and she then proceeded to kill the remaining Merc, and make sure the others were dead. When she was assured that the enemies were dispatched, she turned to survey her rented abode. The entire front wall of the apartment had been caved in, and exploded into the living area. Sitting against the back wall, Mark had his left hand up, like he was waving, but was actually pinned to the wall by a shard of metal. A longer one was stuck in the crook of his right arm. Blood spilled from both wounds. Well, not really blood, but a electrically neutral liquid lubricant that looked like blood. It also made a good mock up in cases where it was unwelcome to appear to be part robot.

"Damn, that was some impressive shooting! Sorry I couldn't be of more help, but I was… occupied." He spoke with a bit of excitement, was actually quite pissed; the metal shard in his right elbow had severed the impulse lines to his lower arm and smashed the actuator that allowed him to manipulate the joint, causing his arm to become limp and usless. The other pinned his left hand to the wall, and had shattered the control net to his fingers, and left his had off line. So even though he was otherwise unhurt, he was still angry, as he would have no manipulators until he could go home, mount a set of spares, or rather, have Jericho mount a set of spares, and repair his damaged limbs.

Sileen, seeing just the injuries, was both confused over how the gravely injured man was being so nonchalant. His head swiveled to the female. "Snow, you mind?" She picked herself up and walked over to him after wrapping one on the curtains around her own hand. She then worked the piece off metal out of the wall buy jiggling it. "You are aware that that still hurts, right?" He said, as she jerked the piece a final time, detaching it from the wall, taking his hand with it.

"Yea, I am." She tossed the bloody chunk aside and hoisted him to his feet. With his left hand useless, he was forced to leave the second shard implanted in his arm.

"Alright, Sileen, I can tell you're confused, but we need to move. Seeing that it is no longer safe here, I think you and your team should stay at my place until your are set to depart." By then she had noticed the gleam of metal and the wiring dangling from his mangled hand, and figured out at least part of him wasn't human.

"If they are after us because Tealsa killed some of their comrades, then it falls to me to look after her. Besides, I would not want to impose." Snow cut in before Mark could.

"You would not be imposing in the least. We have shared blood in combat, your welcome as long as you'll stay."

"Yep," Mark added, "besides, Tealsa didn't kill the Merc's, I did. She allowed me to place her in temporary protection for the night. You have anywhere else to go?" He added the last bit with genuine concern. Sileen conceded that until the ship arrived the next day, that they had no other place to stay, and not enough surplus credits to get another place. "Pack what you need, call up your other teammates, and let's go, that was the third group of them I've had to deal with now, and I am sure they are getting pissed." Sileen nodded, holstered her weapons, and went to get Tealsa out of the restroom. The, while Tealsa gathered the groups modest belongings, Snow tended to the gash on the Turians face. She pulled out a canister of Medigel, the pictogram in blue to represent it only to be used on Turians or Quarians, attached the applicator straw, and sprayed the sealant across the cut. After that, the 4 people hailed an autocab and made the journey back to Mark's pad.

When the four arrived in front of the house, the other three Asari were already outside. Sileen and Tealsa greeted their mates, and Mark knocked on the door using the flopping hand attached to his left wrist. A few seconds later, Jericho cracked the door to look at who was there.

"Excuse me, Sir or Ma'am, but do you have a moment to talk about the Lord?" Mark asked, looking expectant.

"Hol' on, lemme get my shotgun." He turned away, walking into the apartment, and Mark gave the impression of a sweeping bow that he could manage.

"Welcome to su casa, Senoritas." He said, with a shit easting grin.

The Turian led the girls inside, and Raeka joined Mark, Snow, and Jericho, giving a small wave of happy recognition to Tealsa, who still wearing Mark's vest, returned it. Jericho shook his head as he saw the full extent of the damage to Mark's parts.

"Damn it Mark, why do you have to go and get broken all the time?" He scoffed.

"Just to give you somethin' to do during the day, Sugar Britches." He cooed back, patronizingly. "Anyway, the lovely Turian standing next to me is Miss Sileen Orcahe, and has shed blood with us in a fight against some Eclipse goons. As so, she and her team are Guests with us for as long as she feels like it." The Turian, who had grown somewhat used to the human's odd behavior held out her hand to the Krogan-sized human.

"Greetings, Sir, it is an honor to be welcome in your home." She gave the Turian equivalent of a warm, formal smile.

"Charmed,," he replied, shaking her hand with his massive fist, "and thank _you_ for looking after this idiot. Let me guess, he injured himself trying to set the clock on a microwave, didn't he?" The tone held no malice, and so Sileen assumed that he was possessing of the same informal oddity as his companion.

"No," she replied, "it was a grenade launcher."

"Well, at least he won't try to change the clock on one of those in the near future. Hopefully, anyway. Name is Jericho, by the way." He added as an after thought. The Quarian than moved forward, and gave a human salute.

"Raeka'Soli Vas Valhalla Nar Vostok, Ma'am." She sounded of, standing at attention. The Turian was surprised that the Quarian had a post pilgrimage name, as most of them tended to stay with the flotilla. She was so befuddled at the odd greeting that she could think of nothing to do, and her military training took over, and she embraced a philosophy said well in the human adage "When in Rome, do as Romans do." She returned the salute, and the Quarian seemed pleased and retreated a step. Then, Sileen introduced her group in order of seniority.

First was Doctor Azula DeCampos, the Lead of the archeologists, and her mate and the teams Biologist, Doctor Ceruleios Decampos. Next was the Xenoanthropologist, Doctor Indiga Florin, and final Tealsa D'Nooni, who held no formal doctorate, but was generally capable, and honorary gofer. Mark had to bite his tongue to keep from giggling, wondering if the Asari were aware that all of their names contained a form of the word blue in English. Raeka offered to show the girls their sack arrangements, and led the four Asari through the house. Mark flopped down on the puffy couch as Jericho moved to the work table and began to remove things, and Snow went to her room.

"Take a seat." He said, minus the gesture he intended, as his right arm was dead. The Turian grabbed a seat in a comfortable looking chair. "So, how does someone who is a marksman of that caliber and obvious overall military prowess wind up not being still enlisted at your young age?" Damn, the human was real sharp. During the fight, and the ride, and now within the home, the human had trumped her at ever turn. But there was none of the smug, attempting to make himself seem more important and better than her. He was either genuine, or the best damned actor that she had ever seen, and she doubted actors could get hands made of metal. She had already subconsciously decided that she wanted him to run the security for her op, and had not once used the want for the position as leverage for the situation. She had a question.

"May I ask a question?" The Turian asked tentatively.

"Shoot." Mark said.

"I do not wish to offend, but why is it you are so kind to us?" There was a bit of a snap in her voice, and accusation. "By my experience, humans are fickle and greedy, prone to jealousy and proving superiority. But I have seen you treat Turians, Quarians, Asari and even your own women as equal is not better than yourself. You even defended Tealsa twice, without any benefit to yourself, and have not tried to sway me to letting you join us on our expedition." Mark looked across the room, and was silent for a full minute, and Jericho carried to skeletal arms and laid them on the empty space of the couch. Then, using an array of highly specialized tools began removing flaps of damaged skin from his left forearm.

"Are you concerned about this?" He asked, not looking at her, as the framework of his arm was revealed, joined at the shpulder. Sileen was feeling flustered at this point.

"I am not proud of it, but yes." Mark gritted his teeth as the limb pooped free of its locking collar with a large snap, and Jericho began to mount the spare. The second it was fitted and locked down, and he flexed the limb, wiggling each of the shiny fingers.

"Fair enough." He said, glancing at the hand as Jericho began to work on the right arm at the shoulder. "When I lived on Earth, before I got a chance to see all of this…" he waved the new arm around, gesturing at everything while looking for the right word, "calamity that is galactic society, all I was exposed to in person was humans. I'd see the occasional vid of aliens and stuff, but it wasn't giving a good impression, especially when compared to the human side of things. I got sick of humanity. But after the accident, and I got an opportunity to be a soldier, and a chance see and work with the many disseperate cultures, I learned something." He paused, left fist balled as the right arm was removed, and leaned back after the new one was attached, and Jericho left.

"We are all the fucking same. Noisy, arrogant, selfish, ugly things that got to where we are today by being able to out kill all the rest of the shit we came across. No matter what our bodies were made of, or shaped like, the color of or skin or thickness of our chitin, ways of breeding or all that other bullshit that makes us different from eachother. The bittom line remains: we are all people." He placed both hands behind his head, and stared off to the distance. "Heh, it's funny, I left Earth to get away from people, but they are all the fucking same." He sighed. "Anyway, I got depressed, and then stated thinking, what can I do to change this? When the answer came back as diddily squat, I just said fuck it. I may not be able to affect a change, but damn it, I can at least try to be happy. Damnedest thing is, that I found by doing things that felt right for the people I cared about made me feel good. And that's why I do it. A great human author one stated that there is no such thing as altruism, and that anyone who believes otherwise is the worst kind of liar at worst, and a fool at best. All that we do is based out of self interest. Well, I found what interested me, and I did it, and I have been happy ever since, and even managed to find beauty in people, of all make ups." Sileen was quiet for a long time. So long, that Mark had picked up his right arm and begun working the foot long splinter of metal out of his elbows crook.

"Well," She final started, "to answer your original question, it was partly due to my rather militant involvement with the "Heart of Palaven." After the human's confessions, she felt like she owed him the truth, although she didn't know why. "It was right after the Humans secured a seat upon the council, and the "Heart" became increasingly active and fanatical. Some members had even murdered some ranking officials who were seen as human compliant or sympathizers. The military response drove the group to ground, though I had left prior to that, my record was colored with my involvement in a raid my unit committed on a small human settlement that turned bloody that I was unable to prevent." Mark didn't need to look at her face to see the pain etched their, as he could here it clearly in her voice, and felt bad for the Turian. "Some of the higher ups didn't seem to care that all the reports and recordings showed I was not compliant or participating in this event, and effectively forced me into early retirement."

"Damn, REMFs will do it to you every time." Mark said, Shaking his head. It was a term that was familiar to the Turian, standing for Rear Echelon Mother Fuckers, and mean the command structure that ha little grip on how the army worked for the enlisted personnel. With her tale told, the Turian had made her decision.

"Mark, I would like you and your team to provide the security detail for out expidition." He looked at her for the first time.

"Thank you, Sileen, I look forward to working for you." She took note of the "for" rather than the "with" that most would have used, already helping define the power dynamic. "When you want to leave?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, after the ship refuels and the final supplies are loaded." Mark nodded.

"Sounds good." He then turned his head and yelled. "Oy, Jericho, break out the charges, we're buggering off in the morning." He received the answering shout of conformation from the large man and Snow walked into the room. Her hair had been washed and reflected the lights in the room. She was wearing a loose grey sweater and still had his jeans on.

"Hey," she said almost shiftily, "I'm heading out, got to meet a friend before we ship out." He eyed her.

"'Ight, just be careful, lord knows when those Mercs will get more to come and party with us." He said, as he finally worked the metal lose from his arm, and set the arm Aside. He adjusted his grip on the diamond shaped metal shard, and hucked it at a far wall, where it stuck with a twanging noise. Snow moved in and gave him a quick, dry peck on the lips, said good night to Sileen and then left. Mark moved to the work bench to repair his primary arms, because the ripped skin needed replacement as well as fitting along with the repairs, and he now had a time limit to work with.

He didn't know exactly who the person Snow was going to meet was, but knew enough. Because when he had told Sileen that he had know some Cerberus agents, he wasn't just making shit up. Snow had been on the Cerberus payroll during her time with C-Sec, and was meeting with another agent, presumably her handler form back then. He knew, though, that there was nothing to be worried about, because she was apart of the family now, and was stronger than the rest of them. With his mind clear, he began working on his limbs, wondering what the following day would hold.

**End chapter 3, and sorry, this is the longest single piece of anything I have ever scribed, but it all needed to be here, so G'night, everyone.**


	4. Discovery and Evacuation

Mass Effect: Extinction

Disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect.

**#4: Discovery and Evacuation**

Snow sipped her drink, sitting low in her seat in a booth in the back corner of the room. She placed it back on the scarred table top, and began to nod off almost immediately. She was in some random bar in one of the seedier of the Blue Suns controlled areas of the station. Not a place she would have chosen, but she really didn't mind. After the life on the Citidel, she actually preferred the open hostility present here in comparison. On the Citidel, everyone was just as rude, offensive and selfish as they were on Omega, but at least here they were open and honest about it, not hiding it.

"Long day?" Snow jumped at the brisk female voice that sounded from her right. She had not realized that she had fallen asleep. She looked around and saw her friend standing. She stood with a smile and gave the other woman a hug before letting her grab the seat opposite.

"No more than any other. You just keep odd hours."

"No stranger than your own, Aurora." She flinched slightly. She hated being called by her birth name. Her full name being Aurora Frost, she went by Snow because it conjured a pretty image in her mind. She took a moment to examine her friend while she ordered a drink. Her dark chestnut hair flowed glossily down her back and splashing on her shoulders, a little of it falling down over her perfectly sculpted facial features. The rest of her body was built just as well as her face, and was evident by the skin tight while and black bodysuit she wore. Like most of the popular human and Asari styles, the only skin exposed was on her neck, face, and some cleavage. Snow found it amusing how the species that possessed breasts all enjoyed showing off that fact. When her drink came, she cupped the glass in both hands an spoke into it.

"Sorry, But I can't stay long. We're only here long enough to refuel and and make a few vital repairs." Snow waved her hand dissmissivly.

"It's alright. Just nice to see you again Miranda. How went you're last assignment?" The other woman gave a wry smile.

"Better than I could have imagined."

"Is it something you can talk about, or is it one of those ultra black ops kind of things?" She looked up at Snow, a nervous type of smile on her face.

"I… I can talk about any of it now. I… I am no longer a member of Cerberus." Snow chocked on her drink. She never saw this coming, although she could see that Miranda was completely truthful about it.

"***cough*** what… What brought that about…" She asked, coughing. Miranda looked briefly away and Snow knew, and a sly smile spread across her face. "Aw, Miranda, you found a boy who could keep up with you. Who is he?"

"It's not only that." She said, passionately, and not due to embaressment. On of the benefits of talking with Snow was that signals were not mistaken for others. Everything said was able to be seen as it was intended. "This last mission, I saw things that we were doing… and I just could not be a part of it any longer."

"Hey, happens. Now don't dodge, who is he?" Now Miranda gave a far off, happy smile.

"Are you familiar with Shepard?" Snow could see and here the immense pride in her voice, and the reverence she held in the way her body was set. She had it bad.

"Shepard who?"

"Commander Shepard, The first human Spectre."

"Oh, That Shepard. Yeah, didn't he die? I've been hearing odd rumors about that one."

"Like what?"

"Oh, disappears about three years back, some attack or another, then all of a sudden colonist start vanishing, then everything is Shepard this, Shepard that.

"Well, he did die. But I brought him back."

"Okay." There was no challenge, Snow could See Miranda thought this was fact.

"Yes, we did. An insectoid race called the Collectors killed him, and started abducting entire colonies of humans. So I was put in charge of a project to bring him back to life. It worked."

"So he real is back out there, and it's not just all bullshit?"

"Yep. He's… Amazing. We just went on a one way trip through the Omega 4 Relay.. As close to Zero odds of survival as you can get. He brought us all back alive, destroyed the Collectors, and now is headed back to Earth to report on The encroachment of the Reapers."

"Mir, coming form anyone else, I would tell you that you need to be examined. So you really brought a guy back from the dead?"

"Yes. It took two years and an unimaginable amount of credits, but we did it."

"…and now you're dating him."

"What? No. He's in a relationship with a Quarian." She continued after noting the skeptisim on Snow's face. "It doesn't bother me. Pro human does not necessarily mean anti Non-human. I was working with some of the best in the Galaxy, of a number of different races. But, Shepard is simply amazing. That's partly why I am here." Her voice shifted to a business-like tone. "The Reapers are coming." She did not elaborate.

"What are "The Reapers?"" Snow asked. She knew it wasn't a good thing. It was obvious to her by the note in her friend's voice.

"The Reapers are a race of Sentient Machines that live only to wipe out all organic life. They are what made the Proteans extinct, and what attacked the Citadel 3 years ago with Saren and The Geth. And now the Reapers are coming. I came to you because we are going to need everyone we can get if we are going to have a chance. Will you come when I call?"

"Of course." She replied at once. "I'll have to tell Mark we're doing it, but we're in. It might be hard to reach us, because we're going off station on a job starting tomorrow. We'll Figure it out when the time comes. Now, tell me more about this guy."

(…)

When Snow made it back home, it was well past local midnight. She slipped in and moved silently through the living area. Mark was at his tool bench, his head on the table, the subdued light off. She moved to her own room and noticed the two Asari who were married together in her bed, fast asleep. She did not mind, so she quietly grabbed her night clothes, and dressed in the bathroom, choosing a T-shirt in lieu of her open fronted one. She still stuck with only underpants, though, as it was still her house. She folder her clothes and left them on the counter. When she returned to the living room, Mark was up and back at work at the table, it's holographic projector showing a skeletal human arm. He was winding different colored wires around the bones and through the skin.

"So, how's your old contact?" He said without turning away."

"She's alright. Not my contact anymore, you know. Plus, not even Cerberus anymore. It's crazy."

"Usually is. Sorry about the Asari in your bed. Jericho and Raeka are in her room, and I got Sileen in mine, Tealsa and the other in Jericho's. if you want the couch I can grab the floor."

"I can share. No worries. Hey, listen. While I was out, Miranda laid some… heavy shit on me. The short of it is that she's going to call me when a race of near omnipotent machines whose only purpose is to wipe out all organic life. I told her when it happens, she could count us in for the fight."

"Okay, that could be interesting. Tell me about it." For the next hour, Snow went over all the things Miranda had told her about, and even had a drive with some reports and data on it. Mark continued to rebuild his damaged arms, rewiring it a bit so that he would loss control in similar situations. He also ran back up control "nerves" outside of the bone to in event that they were shattered. When she handed him the dive he opened a wireless link with his thoughts, and zipped it to his own hard drive before handing it back. Finally he finished the redesign, told his machines to fabricate 4 pairs, then clicked out the lights. Snow had was laying on her back, looking up at him, her eyes glimmering in the light in the kitchen. As he joined her she flowed up against him like a cat, and was fast asleep. He was glad she could drop of so easily, having burdened him with the shit she had learned. He decided the full details could wait until later, because even with the relays and FTL flight, Space was still big and boring. He would have plenty of time to look over the stuff on the flight out. And with that though, he fell asleep.

(…)

The flight out to the system and then to the planet took a total time of just under a month and a half. The ship itself was an old surplus Turian frigate that was owned by Sileen, and once the course was set, flew on auto pilot for most of the time. Mark got better acquainted with Tealsa, though not in the manner he had initially been trying to, and also with Sileen. The Turian truly had left her anti human beliefs in the past, and he liked her gruff, dominant attitude. They had taken to different card games during the ships night cycle, and she had become his partner, although everyone lost to Snow. All the Asari save Tealsa kept to themselves, but she was always around, peppering the humans with questions and just getting to know each of them, save Jericho, who kept his distance from all the Asari. Mark knew the real reason for this, but deflected it by saying that because he spent so many years learning about the Asari, that he couldn't help viewing them with detachment, and didn't want to offend. He thought Sileen might be able to see through this, but she did not say anything.

After the debacle on Omega, Tealsa had expressed a desire to become more proficient in self defense, and was working with Snow and (closely supervised by Snow) Raeka to that end. By the time they landed at site, she was able to hold her own physically, and had a real grasp on offense biotics. They would work on firearms now that they had landed.

The site consisted of a single black/purple spike of metal protruding about 20 feet out of the side of a hill. A series of prefab buildings were placed up to a section of the hill that had been dug up. Sileen had explained the setup to Mark before they were shuttled down. The buildings were several labs, a kitchen, and a barracks, and had been set up by another independent firm. They settled in, gave half of the bunkroom to the Asari, and took the other for the Humans, although Sileen choose he bunk on their side rather than with the rather aloof Asari. The edge of building that touched the hill ended in an airlock that connected to the black metal thing buried in the planets crust.

Sileen and Mark each took teams to explore the wrecked ship, and quickly realized just how big the damn thing was, and that is was unlike anything they had ever seen before. It was at least the size of a dreadnought, and almost all of it was buried. It was a maze of dark, twisting passages and wide open spaces, and it was hard to determine where you actually were within it, like the passages changes once you walked through them. So it went for weeks, Mark leading Raeka and Tealsa and Sileen taking Jericho and Snow, they were moving through the ship, taking pieces and bringing them back for the other three to study in their labs. The site was creepy enough during the day, and they stayed out at night.

The planet itself was not unpleasant, Earth like atmosphere with slightly less gravity. Thing was, it rained all the time. Constantly. So much so that no vegetation larger than grasses could get a foot hold as the constantly shifting plates below the crust created an ever-changing landscape of mud. The prefab had been attached to the ship they were working on, the ground that the supports had originally rested upon had already melted away and left a 2 foot gap under the habitat. But outside this, it was a pleasant trip, almost a vaction. You know, except again for the eerily silent ship corpse they were digging through. Finally, after about two months, they had placed enough probes and beacons to get a full holographic display of the ship.

Mark was leaning over the screen, with Tealsa, Sileen, and the other scientist standing in a circle around the large projection dome Mark had Jury-rigged in their main lab. HE waited for the final green light to blink on, tapped a few places on the display, and grunted in satisfaction as the lights in the prefab dimmed, and shaky red lines began to trace in the air above the dome. Snow walked in, dressed in a white tank top and black cargo pants, no shoes and her hair dripping wet from the shower she'd been taking, and tapped Mark on shoulder. He reluctantly tore his eyes away from the blossoming image and immediately became tense at the look on Snow's face. She was pale as looked about to faint. She opened her omnitool and slid a message over to him. He did not recognize the address, but the attachment made his eyes narrow as he scanned the content. Sileen, noticing the sudden shift, walked over and asked about what was wrong. He did not bother forwarding the message, but simply filped his display so she could read it.

When she finished, the three exchanged a few more words, then all retreated while the four Asari continued watching the blossoming image grow.

(…)

Back in the bunkhouse, Mark, Sileen, Jericho, Raeka, and Snow were all sitting in stony silence, watching footage of Machines dropping to the planet below amidst a glittering velvet black backdrop rent with explosions and death. After Snow had shown them the flash alert sent on all channels by Admiral Hackett, the highest remaining officer left in the human fleet, they had sat without words, watching footage of the Reaper attacks for over an hour. After two hours, the door slid open, and Tealsa entered, wanting to inform them that the modeling was completed. She was about the speak when the noise and images on the screen registered.

She stood transfixed for a moment, the moved and sat next to Sileen and watched with the rest in silence. Finally, when the shock started to wear off, she realized the she had seen the shape that the ships destroying everything before.

"Hey!" She exclaimed, making everyone jump so bad that Snow had to check herself to keep herself from bringing a knife to bear on the Asari out of instinct.

"What?" Mark shook his head to clear the fog out, and looked over at her. She pointed at the things on screen.

"The scans finished a little bit ago, and we have been rooting around in one of those!" Before anyone could react, the was a loud thump that shook the entire habitat. A few seconds later the was a static rattling and the sound of screams filtered in. The ones that were veterans of combat were instantly alert, the horror they had seen forgotten momentarily.

Snow pressed low on one side of the door as Mark slid to the other, both their sidearm's drawn. Mark triggered the door releases, and the swept into the next room, before a muffled clear told Jericho, Raeka, and Sileen to follow, all with weapons drawn. Tealsa, picking up the hint, drew her own pistol and followed hesitantly. They stacked up against the door where the other Asari were, and Mark overrode the door controls, and edged it open a crack with his augmented arms.

He peered through the door, and saw several people in white and yellow armor prowling the room, one stacking the bodies of the scientists. Mark left the crack, but kept his eye on it, while he whispered his intent to Jericho to pass down the line.

"Cerberus. Flash and smash." Jericho nodded and passed the word around to the others. He moved back to the door, and counted 12 soldiers. He knew enough about Cerberus to know this might not be easy. But he had confidence in his team, and knew the Sileen would watch after Tealsa. He removed a flash grenade from his belt, primed it, looked to his group, found them ready, and tossed it in.

He heard the bang, pushed in, and learned a valuable lesson. It is never wise to rely on a flashbang when going up against troopers in fully pressurized suits and leaded eye lenses. He entered to see all 12 level their rifles at him. He swore and dove sideways, activating all his emergency features. In reality, all that happened was his legs vented smoke while his arms sent out a radial pulse of electricity that disabled the enemies weapons just long enough for him to claw his way into cover while the shocks wracked his body. He thought he heard shots, but his aural sensors were flicking from the overload. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was actually only about thirty seconds, his displays reset, and he managed to push himself up with his back to the crate he was covering behind.

"Are you okay?" Snow called over from the next piece of cover. He could see the others arrayed around the room, trading shots with Cerberus. He checked his danger indicator, and it still crawled with fuzz.

"No, " He said, shaking his head. He ejected the burned out thermal clip from his pistol, and sloted a new one. "this is bullshit. All I wanted was to have sex with a fine ass little Asari chick, and now I am on some damn mud planet fighting soldiers while the earth burns. I woyld say okay is not something I am." Snow shook her head with a slight smile, while across room, Tealsa was reloading her gun, and suddenly realized what he had said.

"Wait, WHAT?"

"Not now, sweetie, daddy's working." Mark yelled back, swinging around and shooting one of the soldiers. The rounds struck the side of one that was shooting at Raeka, cracked it's armor and threw it against the wall. Jericho's shotgun barked, and another fell. Thankfully, the Cerberus soldiers were only expecting a small, Asari only research party, and not a paramilitary security team, and were cut down with no further casualties to Mark's party. When the last of the incoming fire died off, Mark took quick survey of the room, before calling it clear. He began to move through the room, delivering a Coup De Grace to each corpse in turn. The others just stood and looked around, marks group waiting, while Tealsa moved over and looked down at her fallen race mates. Sileen spoke first, after the last of the corpses was assuredly dead, and Snow, Raeka, and Jericho started collecting weapons and kit from the dead Cerberus.

"So… uh… what is the plan?" Mark fired two shots into a corpse, ejected the spent clip, and replaced it from one of the body he looted. He hefted the fallen troopers weapon and inspected it.

"I don't know. I will get you wherever you need to go, but I for one am going to join the fight. Snow, Jer, Rae, You all are free to do as you please, But I am going to join up for the duration."

"You don't get to ditch us that easily. We're with you." Snow said, knowing the other two felt the same way.

"Alright, pack you're crap and load up whatever you think we should take." He finished checking the rifle, and slung it, before facing Sileen. "Whatever we have here, those people want it, and I am not keen of letting them have it. I'm going to rig it's Mass Effect core to explode, then we are bugging out. Our destination is the Citadel, but I will take you wherever you need to go first. Prep your stuff, and have it loaded, I want to get out as soon as possible, lest they bring reinforcements." And Mark moved about his business, his mind already thinking about what lay ahead.


	5. The Citadel

**Mass Effect : Extinction**

_**Hello, Everyone. Unfortunately, my computer crashed and I had reformat my hard drive. I lost the 5 pages of this I had, the 24 pages of Warpath, 5 pages of BlackHeart, and all the original work I ever did. So it will take me a little longer than it already takes for updates. I apologize for the delay, and will keep it going best I can.**_

**5: The Citadel**

Richard rubbed his eyes with his right hand, and leaned his head against the wall and closed them. They had been at the Citadel for almost a month, while Marked worked his ass of selling and leveraging his belongings and investment into a gear upgrade for his assortment. They now had the best equipment he could buy for them, and he would be giving it them after he got Tealsa hooked up. He had his ears cranked up, and his scent receptors queued on full.

He and Tealsa were sitting in portable folding chairs in a strictly black market clinic somewhere in the less desirable wards in the Salarian dominated arm. This was the only place he could go to get the stuff Snow had gotten from some other ex-Cerberus people. Seemed a lot of the Cerberus people were getting out now that the Reapers appeared. Maybe they wanted to fight the real enemies, rather that those who worked to stop them.

He had to use this clinic, because the amp and kit he wanted installed was not only highly illegal, it technically didn't exist. But he didn't like it. He had broken into their local extranet using his internalized toolset, and was used it to research them within their own systems. A lot seemed on the level, but it never paid to be lax in caution in a place like this.

His smell receptors picked up something below the range of normal perception, and triggered the indicator in his skull. He triggered it and it displayed the chemical signature on the inside surface of his eyelid. He had picked this one up a lot lately. It was an Asari stress hormone. He keyed for biometrics, and did a pulse scan locally. out of three targets he picked up, he picked the one located perspective left, and looked them over. Tealsa's heart rate was high, her heart betting like a hammer, her blood pressure was high, and the levels of the stress hormone she was exuding indicated she was very scared.

He moved his left hand forward, gently prized her white knuckled grip of the arm rest, and threaded his fingers in hers. Her heart rate dropped slightly, and she stopped shaking. Partly this was due to the fact that she could feel a little bit of the confidence mark had radiating from his nerves through the physical contact, but as his limbs were artificial, and the current just a plain electric current, this effect was greatly reduced than that of if she was touching actual skin. Mainly, she took comfort in the fact that he was there with her.

"You know, you don't need to do this, Teal." Mark said without opening his eyes. He felt her stiffen. While she was a talented natural biotic, being Asari, and had improved drastically in all areas in the long, challenging training session she had had on their journey to the Citadel and while they sat in the docking queue, she was still not pleased with her overall ability. In fact, it had been her insistence that lent to Mark and company to scour the illicit markets for a biotic amp system. It was a strict taboo against using amps among the Asari, who prided themselves on not needing such technology to harness more powerful biotic then most races could harness even with the best mods available. But she had repeatedly cited the desire for it stemmed from the fact that if it could help, she didn't give a damn about a custom that would cease to exist unless everyone did all they could.

Mark, of course went over all the grisly details and problems he could with her, trying to dissuade the pretty young girl from such a radical procedure. But she was stubborn about it, and so now they sat and waited for their doctor, a Salarian named Hougus, to find them. Tealsa had put up a brave front the whole procedure, but now that it came to the part where actual surgery was required, she was scared bad, but refused to back down.

"There is no shame in it, dear. These procedures are dangerous no mater how skilled the surgeon."

"No." She said, her voice quavering before steadying. "I want to do everything I can to help." He squeezed her hand in admiration, and her heart rate was almost what his files said was Asari normal. He heard the clumping long before the doctor got within range, and opened his eyes to look at the man.

Hougus looked just like most Salarians, in that Mark couldn't even guess at the age, as they all seemed to have the general size and shape when they reached maturity. Call it racist if you will, but it didn't make it any less sincere for Mark. He had a base orange skin, with deep, hunter green stripes crawling down the sides of his head, and sloping inward around his large, gleaming black eyes. He was missing his right leg at the waist, and was supported with a wooden crutch that provided the clumping noise.

"Miss D'Nooni?" He said in a reedy voice. She jumped a little, and flushed, but managed to nod. "Please follow me to room 12." The map in Mark's head had a route displayed almost before he finished speaking. Mark rose, opening his eyes, and picking up a large briefcase stile satchel with one hand, and a large, insulated and padded orange envelope, and second, smaller plastic case with the other. He let Tealsa walk ahead f him, as they followed the doctor through twisting corridors full of all manner of species into a compartment with a rolling stools and a elbow height metal table jury-rig leveled to the floor plates. He stood on the opposite side of the table from the Human and Asari. "What can I help you with today?" He tone was polite, but uninterested. Mark placed the biggest case on the floor, with the padded orange foil envelope, and placed the plastic case on the table, opening toward himself.

"Word is you are the top rated Surgeon on station capable of installing biotic amps, outside of the major clinics, and are actually superior to most of the Clinic surgeons as well." The Salarian blinking was the only hint that he was surprised.

"I suppose that could be true." He said, slight suspicion lacing his voice.

"I know it is true." Mark said plainly. "And that I why I would like you to install an amp in Tealsa, here." The Salarian blinked again.

"I find it odd that an Asari would want a biotic Amp installed at all." Was all the Salarian said, aiming for neutral. Tealsa gave him a pleading look.

"We are joining the war effort on the front lines as soon as possible, and I am afraid I don't have the dozens of years to increase my biotic pool naturally." She said. His eyes clicked over to her, then back to Mark. He replied stiffly.

"Even if I were rated to perform such a procedure, there is a heavy shortage of amps on the market everywhere right now, and we have none in the clinic, even if you could afford the ..." Mark raised a finger to quiet the man.

"Already got the amp, doc, take a look." He pooped the latches on the case, and opened the lid before spinning the case and presenting it to the doctor. The doctor leaned over the case and his eyes widened.

The contents were simple. a 2 foot long, slightly "S" curved bracing that looked very similar to a spinal column sat nestled deep in foam, while 6 pair of short wires anchored nearly flat, 2 inch diameter disks to the main structure. It was beautiful in the doctors eyes, and he had never seen an amp like it.

"What is it?" He said in breathless admiration. Mark took a liking to the doctor. He was a man that could appreciate good tech.

"It's a mark 6 Phoenix amp." Mark triggered his omnitool and displayed the amps details in an exploded 3d image. The doctor looked of the stats and was amazed. if what if was saying was true, the amp was powerful enough to boost even a weakly biotic human to a level about par with an Asari with a fair grip on theirs. The technical specs were dense, but basically said that, instead of the horrendously inefficient method that took seeding dozens of biotic sensitive balls within the joints and muscles of the use to absorb the dark energy and a shunt in the wrists to focus it, this one used the host nervous system as a track system. The amp was attached sub dermal to the spine of the host, with the dozen conductor discs implanted out as far as the wire stretched, where they absorbed the small pulsed of dark energy a biotic naturally emits, and used the electric signals of the users nerves to direct the flow of energy.

If it worked, it was amazingly brilliant.

"I have never seen anything to equal it. Where does it come from."

"It's Cerberus tech." Mark said unashamed. "It doesn't exist outside something they refer to as..." he looked through the floating text, and pointed to a word in the files storage tag, "...Dragoon."

"Well, I can see why you are not attempting to use a certified clinic. But a procedure of this magnitude would be ridiculously expensive."

"That's not it." Mark replied, killing the display and pulling up the orange envelope and opening it's seal. He pulled out a fluidly moving gray rope a little thicker than a thread and a little over 6 feet long and let is slither on the table. the last foot of it tapered to a point, while the ended flat. The Salarian looked at this now, but had no idea what he was looking at.

"What is this?" His curiosity overcame the tally of expenses in his head. Mark smiled.

"It's another piece of tech that doesn't exist. S'called a "Biotic Whip." You want a demonstration, I can tell." Mark motioned for Tealsa to move forward. "Easy this time." He said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"I was easy with it last time." She snapped, and placed her right index finger on the rope.

"Oh, sure. You went easy and it ripped my arm off. I'll buy that.." She ignored him, concentrating with all her effort one emitting just the smallest amount of biotic energy at a constant level into the rope. when she was comfortable with her ability to keep it constant, she let the energy jump to the rope. it instantly quadrupled in thickness, it's interior a frothing sea of dark blues and deep blacks. The Salarian jumped back a bit at this, never having seen anything like it. Marked grinned at him.

"Yeah, that is a standard reaction. This material absorbs and amplifies the biotic energy and turns it in into a sold mass. The skin of the whip is not really porous, but when it contacts another mass with sufficient force, it purges a fair bit of energy in explosive pulse that is devastating. I can't even read the technical spec's, much less understand them."

The doctor eyed the specs for a long moment before he gave up; they were too far out of his depth. He saw that they did show how the "whip" was supposed to be installed, which outside of a minor bone graft and some rather impressively designed anchor pins, would be rather easy to install. The cost of installing these modifications, even with the reduced needs of mounting them on an Asari as compared to a human, which meant much less sensitive equipment, he did not think this little raggedy couple could possess even a fraction of the necessary payment he would require for the job.

"These items are quite impressive, but the sum of credits that it would take for me to agree to such a risky and unknown procedure would be more than I believe you could come up with. Also, I doubt we have the facilities here to properly perform such a delicate operation..." He wanted to continue his speech, but the human held up his hands and interrupted him.

"Have a little faith, doctor. I did my research, and this amp and the "whip" are compatible with the gear you have here, plus I brought a bit of refined Element Zero to supplement your clinic's stores, and so old, but still good medical equipment I lifted while I was still technically just an experiment. I believe that should help defray our expenses to the clinic itself. But for your expertise in treating my girl here, I have something I think you will like much better than some old machines." The human smiled and hefted the last of his packages onto the table. He popped the clasps on the side facing him, then spun it and opened the clamshell box all the way. The Doctor gasped, the reclaimed his calm demeaner.

when the box had first opened, he had thought that this human had a Salarian leg nestled in the foam. But after the initial reaction past, he could see that it was clearly a prosthetic, with heavy wiring coved mostly in shiny metal plates, but exposed where they needed to move at the joints. The human pulled it out and pushed the box off the table to the floor, before laying the artifical limb on the table.

"Now this, I am proud of. Technically, I think this is even more illegal that the other stuff. This if for you, Doctor." Hougus summoned offended look, even though his heart began to race.

"I am not some cripple who can be bribed with a showy prosthetic..." again the human raised his hands to pause him.

"And I would never have considered trying to use your lack of an appendage as a bargaining chip if this was just some cheep peg leg. You see, Doctor, this is something I am familiar with on a very personal level." With these words, the human reached his right hand to his left shoulder, worked the fingers into the flesh, and gave a sharp twist, a small pull, and another, opposite direction twist, before lifting up and removing his entire arm with a grimace.

"See, we have a lack of appendage in common, only I happen to be minus... well, all of them." He placed his arm on the table, then pulled up the leg of his pants to above the knee. He then fiddled with the skin until the metal cuff and scars showed under the fake skin. "So, I would not presume to even begin to believe that missing your leg makes you any less of a man that anyone else. But strap this on, and see what you think." His insistance was kind and questioning, rather than forceful.

Hougus moved forward and examined the leg, picking it up, and standing it on the ground when he had finished examining it. Where the joint that would connect it to the hip would normally be, was a heavily padded dish where he could place his stump. He did so, and felt the dish close up around it. He looked up at the human, who nodded.

"How's it fit?" He asked, picking up a small metal bar plate from the recessed foam.

"Feels snug. but I don't see how I can move around with it. I found no anchor devices to secure it, and it is too heavy to pull along by just my stump." He was confused,

"Ok, now I need to attach control bar. I need a connection to your central nervous system. Do you prefer the back of the neck or base of the spine?"

"Wait, what?" The Doctor was worried now. Mark held up the little metal strip, then telescoped the sides out to show it had a slight bend to it.

"I have to attach this to the skin near the base of the spine, or base of the skull, because it needs to read the electric signals your brain sends." The way he said it made it seem like this should be obvious. "For mine, they literally went in and connected my nerve endings into the circuitry, and let's just say while it is nice, I don't recommend it. With this little gizmo, you just pick where you want it, then it reads the signals through the skin, and as long as you are wearing both, the circuit is complete, and you have movement." The doctor tapped the base of his spine, and Mark handed it to him. He shuffled his clothing and placed it to the base of his spine, where it adhered instantly to his skin.

"Ok, now let me work my magic, and we'll see if this works. Already got the handshake signal." The human shook his hand at the wrist, killing the little blip on his omnitool that was telling him that connection to the device was established. Mark reached forward at the device adhered to the doctor's spine, and pulled a display out of thin air that corresponded to the sensor while his omnitool glowed to life on his left hand. He expanded the window until it was very large, and watched as squiggly lines labeled with tags made of odd combinations of letters and numbers in no distinguishable pattern. He then began to prompt the doctor to move various limbs and digits, occasional manipulating the data by dragging and turning it.

This was the part that was highly illegal. The fabrication and specific parts used in the prosthetic. It's was the programming and the sensor that read and interoperated the electric signals that was, as the company that owned the patent wanted to keep it to themselves. Mark, in truth, did not have a copy of the software in a sense that he stole it, but he had most of the stuff stored in his head from when he was in the labs. having many of the features of an omnitool built into your own body make it easy to stealth hack into things while people are around. Plus, he found if he made a concentrated and careful effort, he could break through the blocks in his own limbs and get the code straight from there.

He finished his edits, looked over the final schematic, and entered the 36 digit code that activated the small battery operated motivator engine that powered the leg, before he colapsed the interface and locked it shut.

"Okay, doctor, give it a spin." The Doctor was skeptical, but obliged and took a step forward, prepared to catch himself when he fell. instead, the leg moved just like it would have if it were a flesh and blood leg. He continued taking steps for a few minutes, in crazy disbelief of the fact that he once again had two legs. after five minutes of experimenting, he turned back to the human.

"Do you have an accounting of the items you wish to donate?" Mark held up a datapad, and the Salarian took it. "I'll have to talk to the hospital head about this." He said, and took off. When the door shut, Tealsa turned to him.

"What would happen if he would have refused once he had tried out the leg?"

"I would have let him keep it. odds are good we're all going to be dead soon, and it would just be cruel to take it away. besides, it's was a little less than no effort on my part to provide it. You know I love to show off." He smiled at the blue girl. 5 minutes later, Hougus cleared the procedure with the head of the hospital, and after it was confirmed that the equipment transfer was underway, Tealsa was prepped for surgery. 12 hours after that, she woke to find upper body below the shoulder to her waist bound in white bandages, as well as her right forearm. The amp was installed and tested all systems normal, and the whip appeared to go in fine, but no one had any experience with that kind of thing before, so they would just play it by ear. She was ordered not to use ant biotics for 3 days, and as much rest as possible. Mark took her to the hole in the wall where they were staying while on station, put her to bed, then left again. He had more things to do, more people to see, and more things to get.

(...)

It had been a little more than a week since Tealsa had gotten her Phoenix amp installed, but had felt the insanely huge surge of power the first time she conjured just a simple biotic field. She had to keep her chest bandaged still, for if she used her biotic more than a little bit, the skin over her spine would start to bleed again. but she didn't mind. it was worth all the discomfort that she was in, if she would be an asset to the team. Mark had not come home this day, but called her on her omnitool, and told her report to a location he had attached directions to. She decided to go sans shirt, as the bandage coverage amounted to more coverage than a large halter top, and just put a large sweatshirt on with her pants. Snow came into the room from the bedroom, dressed in her full combat load out, minus the helmet. Heavy mesh under a light, black leather over armor, with iridescent purple plating over the large flat areas and major joints. She was so sleek and small and sexy, and in all her armor, she was so skinny she didn't seem to be possible. It made Tealsa jealous. But she really liked Snow, so it didn't bother her too much. Everyone in the group was close now, even Sileen seemed happy and relaxed. The humans were all easy to get along with, Mark with his obsessive enthusiasm, Jericho with his calm energy, and especially Snow, who always seemed to know exactly what Tealsa needed.

There had been one night... it was around two day after they had fled the mud planet. The impact of everything that was happening hit her hard, and she was just laying in bed, crying for hours. Suddenly, there was Snow, snuggling up to her and soothing her. She lost track of herself and fell asleep, and when she woke, everything was bearable again. Snow stayed with her the next three nights, and on the forth, they had sex. Well, the human equivalent of it. At least, that is what Tealsa thought they did. She was not sure, as she had always heard that female humans tended not to get involved romantically or sexually with her race, sue to their physical similarity to female humans. but then again, it did match some of less aggressive acts she had found when looking up human intercourse on the extranet. Well, she did not know what really happened, but she enjoyed it, and Snow seemed pleased, so she was not distressed.

"You alright?" Snow said, as Tealsa was staring of into space. She jumped a little, as she came back to the present.

"Huh? Oh, yeah sorry, just thinking." She smiled and Snow smiled back, adjusting her armor.

"Sheesh, just a few months of light duty and I can barley squeeze into this monkey suit. She threw on a sweater in a half assed attempt to keep some attention off the fact that she was in full armor. "But it will feel good to get back into action." A more mischievous smile lit up her features.

"I can't wait until you are all healed up and I'll get a chance to see you in your own combat leathers. I hear they only come in skin tight." Teals blushed slightly, still not quite used to the level of intimacy Snow had with everybody she liked. she ran an armored finger down Tealsa arm and then reverted to normal after she got the desired reaction from the blue girl. Snow released the bolts on the locking collar of her right gauntlet at the wrist, and attacked the glove to a waist clip. "Shall we?" She asked, offering the bare hand to Tealsa, who took it happily as the left the room.

The two girls walked at a leisurely pace across the various wards of the Citadel, still hand in hand, attracting plenty of attention from people who enjoyed the sight of two pretty girls out for a nice stroll. It wasn't just because they were pretty, though. it was nice to see a happy face among the encroaching gloom that was overtaking the station as the war pressed on. PArt of the gloom seemed to stem from the recent news that the Genophage, the engineered disease that rendered most Krogan nearly sterile had been cured on their home planet. Snow figured that at the moment, it was pretty damn stupid to worry about what the Krogan might do in the future when there seemed very little chance that there would be any future to begin with. But, Snow was used to stupid people, and had been even before Miranda had picked he up while working for C-sec.

The girls arrived at the place that matched the address given by Mark, only to find it was a local C-sec Headquarters. The desk sergeant on duty was on the lookout for them, and directed them back into an area that was a C-sec firing range. Mark was sitting on a table next to a number of weapons boxes, while Jericho, Sileen, and Raeka were already present. Tealsa took a moment to look at the others.

Jericho was even more imposing in his giant set of blood red heavy armor. Raeka's suit looked almost the same as always, but Tealsa knew that padding around joints, and puncture resistant plating had been added. Sileen, however, looked completely different than she normally did. She no longer looked faintly out of place and mildly scornful, but stood erect and proud, eyes bright. She looked like she was where she belonged. In her armor, a female Turian was far less bulky than a male of the species, and relied one more powerful shields to make up for the lighter armor necessary for their smaller frame. While A female in the military was given no lighter duty then the males, they did tend to get jobs more suited to their physical differences. Males made up the bulk of the front line troops, supplemented of course by females who preferred the heavy fighting, while many females found their greater agility well suited to scout, sniper, and support work. This was not the case with Sileen.

She had been a part of the 26th "Armiger" legion, one of the most respected frontline assault groups in the military, and he armor showed it service as proudly as the wearer. it was pitted and scratched, but polished to a bright, deep blue sheen, and the pockets that held the personal thrusters helped set her apart from other, basic line troops.

Mark had on a lighter variant of armor than Jericho, but a heavier one than Snows, done in an iridescent green. He looked at the two girls as they entered.

"Bout time." He said, looking irritated.

"Blow it out your ass." Snow answered with a bright smile. He nodded, looked briefly to the two's clasped hands, smiled and refocused.

"Right-o, none of my business. Okay, let's get started. First, here." He pulled up his omnitool, typed a flurry of commands, then waved the device in a sweep across the room. Every other persons omnitool flared to life as a short download was received and installed. "I just sent you all the service mandated patch to reactivate the omniblade program that has always lain dormant within your omnitool. You just open the program, tie it into a command prompt, and trigger it to get this:" Mark clenched his fist, and his omnitool flared, an orange flat blade appeared at the back of his wrist and slid out about a foot and a half. "Now, the package of codes provided by our military came with a group of presets for different combat roles, but I went ahead threw in some other designs, so when you get a moment, play around with it and find what you like." He re-triggered the deploy command and the blade shattered and exploded into powder, and he clapped his hands together, rubbing them in pleasure.

"Now, as you all may or may not know, I have been running around, doing all I can save turning tricks to get us the best kit possible for our deployment. Funny story, but while some of these items were hard to come by, it was far more difficult to get us registered as a cross species strike team." He hopped of the table, picking up the bulky white rifle that had lain there, and handed it to Tealsa. "For you , Teal. This is the gun I picked up when those Cerberus bastards hit us on that mud ball. It's called a Harrier, and it packs enough punch to ruin just about anyone's day. I know it is a bit big for you, but I added in a stabilizer, so the kick should be minimal, and I added on a barrel extension to give you a bit more kick." Tealsa took it with surprise and began examining it, knowing it was Mark expected her to do. She was surprised because he himself had been carrying the gun since it had been acquired.

"Okay now, go grab a lane and loose some rounds. I'll come round and give you an adjustment if you need one in a bit." He turned his attention to the topmost box, so Tealsa turned at moved down the line to a lane, feeling oddly uncomfortable. Snow, who could read the a bit of what was going on in each of their heads, was irked at Mark for brushing off Tealsa so curtly. But she would give him his later. He popped open the box, and removed a solid metal block with small wing like protrusions on the sides. He tossed it to Jericho, who caught it with one hand.

"Here you go, a Claymore, just the way you like it." He continued unloading boxes, parceling out the kit to who it belonged to. Raeka got a new Mattock assault rifle, and her Eviscerator upgraded. Mark had taken Sileen's old service Phaeston and added an internal accelerator to give the ammo an armor piercing capabilities, along with a liquid cooling system to help get more shots out of the thermal clips. He also replaced her old Predators with a pair of brand new Carnifex heavy pistols.

"And, at last, we get to my present to myself." Only snow was left, and she was ready to tear into him now. But he had already opened the case and was now cradling his own new main weapon. Snow was impressed. He had what looked like a Saber, a custom made elite marksman weapon. He collapsed it and strapped it to its slot on his back. He picked up the final box, opened it on the table, and pulled out Snow's first gun. "Here is your Shuriken, I added a stabilizer and heat exchange system, should help you cut back on clip use. But I am going to level with you. I traded in your Mantis." He looked sheepish, and Snow gasped.

"You didn't!"

"I did. I figured we aren't going to be going at bands of lower end mercenaries, I thought you might want something with a little more punch." He motioned for her to move closer and she took a step before stopping dead. In side of the box was what appeared to be a long, dull gray rectangular box, with a telescoping tube extending from one end, and a high powered scope resting on a surface 90 degrees from the tube. She brought her hand to her mouth in shock, and Mark grinned like an happy idiot.

"You didn't!" She repeated. He nodded. "That's a..." He said yes. "It really is!?" He nodded again. "For me?" Indeed, he would have said, following the nod, if Snow hadn't flung herself forward and planted her lips firmly on his. She detached, bodily shoved him aside, and walked reverently up the gun, nestled in its heavily padded enclosure. Tears were in her eyes as she stroked the side of the gun lovingly, lightly, with one of her exposed fingers. Mark had picked himself up from where Snow had knocked him over, and figured she approved.

"I take it you approve?" She ignored him, lost in the beauty of the clunky weapon. "Good, I even pulled the Bolt and Explosive ammo mod from you Mantis before I gave it up, and installed them in that already. Pick it up and grab a lane. I want to see how you like it." She lifted the gun out of its case, cradling it like an infant, and walked over to the farthest lane to the left, well away the rest of the party. Her irk about his churlish actions had been forgotten, but he still needed to be disciplined. She reveled in the thrill as she raised the gun to her shoulder. Truthfully, it had been her dream to own one of these, called the "Widow", rifles ever since she had first been the nominated marksman for the group. It was a cut down version of the stationary anti-vehicle rifle that could punch clean through a Mako ATV. She liked it two because of the elegant design that went into making it man portable, even if the result was aesthetically less than pleasing.

She noticed as she looked down the angle mounted iron sight to the left of the scope, that Mark had mounted a metal notch plate for her to track her one shots. He really was the best, she had to admit. She pressed a foot pedal, and a target dropped from the ceiling. Snow tried to bring the rifle up for a quick pop shot, but it was far heavier than she was used to, so she had to pause at the apex, steady her aim and then... **BOOM!**

The rifles shot erupted in the enclosed space, generating a small echo even off the heavily muffled walls. The butt of the rifle slammed into her shoulder so hard it threw her backwards, where Mark, expecting this based off the claims and vids he had seen while researching it, caught her. She positively squealed with delight as Mark righted her, and even bounced a little as she regained her feet. She set her weapon on the stand and jumped back on Mark, squeezing him in a tight, arms around the neck hug, still giggling like a happy little girl.

"Holy shit!" Jericho called, leaning back from his own lane. "The fuck was that?" The other girls heads popped out as well, and Snow's own appeared from behind their blind. She stuck her tongue out at Jericho.

"That is my new gun, and it's louder than yours." Jericho mad a face back, and replied pedantically.

"Well, yeah, sweetie, explosive rounds will do that." She gave him her best shit eating grin.

"That wasn't with the explosive rounds." Jericho mumbled something rude, shook his head, and went back to his own work. Snow returned her attention to Mark.

"Thank you so much!" She said, squeezing him again, before pulling back into a leaning position and crossing her arms over her chest, a universal female code for "you are in trouble now."

"What is your problem?" She said, her voice flat now. This was one of the times he hated talking to Snow, because he couldn't bullshit her. Not that he didn't still try.

"Don't give me that." Snow snapped, before he could even say a word. "I know you thought you could pass of your condescension and dismissal and no one would notice, but I did, and I can tell you she did as well." She glared at him, mad now. "You do not get to be jealous, you know. When I told you how bad she was on our way here, _you _pushed me into bed with her to comfort her, when you knew damn well you could have done it, and she damn well would have preferred it that way. You know she confided in me about that little comment you made when the Cerberus goons attacked? She was worried she had done something wrong to bother you, because you never made any attempt to do just what you said you wanted to. And don't even give me that! Jericho would have told you, hell, I know he's mentioned it before, that Asari like physical attention, that they are a very social race." Mark finally held his hand up to stop the little fuming woman.

"Okay, Okay. Right on all counts. By Allah, when you go off, you go off. Ok, yes, I may have been a little tart with the girl, and it may be a ghost of the jealousy I thought I buried long ago. But give me a break, I have been working my ass off, and I am kinda overtired." She gave a curt nod, accepting this. "And yes, I know I probably could have slipped in and "comforted" her, but damn it, she's just such an earnest and cute young girl, who yes, I understand she is well over 3 times my age, but it would just feel like I was taking advantage of her. I won't do that." Snow did not argue this. As wrong as she knew this conviction was, she knew also she could not shake it from him. "And finally, I know it is unfair to you, because I know anyone who I bring home is going to fall in love with you before any else, Snow, and I shouldn't have let it get away from me, just cause this one looks like a pretty girl. Don't worry, I will make it up to her.

"I know you will." She said, giving him a soft smile. He sighed, then gave a bitter chuckle.

"I guess the stain is getting to me. It's almost funny; I don't worry about any of you guys, you know what you are signed along for, and Sileen, the bitter old cuss she is, is well aware of the situation as well. But Teal, damn it, she just a kid. I am scared of what we might face out there. I mean, Humanity, and then the rest of the galaxy gives bad enough horrors, and this shit is supposed to be worse than all of that. But I can deal with that. I just don't like dragging her into it just because I don't know where else I could stick her."

Snow felt a brief glimmer of the emotion that the man could put into words, and her hand drifted unconsciously across the scar on her belly. Mark saw this, and something clicked in his head. He grabbed her arm and pulled her right up against the table her rifle rested on.

"Snow, I know this will offend you, but I need to ask it. You not just into Teal because..." She brought her finger up and silenced him.

"No." She whispered her head down. "I will not be offended, because I cannot say I haven't considered that option before. But No. I like Tealsa, but not for that. I have refused to let that bother me an any significant way since the last time we discussed it." She looked up, her eyes burning. She then smiled. "I am surprised it took you this long to peg that, considering you have a computer for a brain. Guess stupid is stupid, regardless of processing power, eh?" He wrapped an arm around her tiny shoulders and squeezed, then let her go. Then he remembered he had one last little thing for her.

"Don't ask me why, but that reminds me, I have something else for you." He opened an armored pouch on his belt, and removed a small, roughly heart shaped, device. It was mostly flat, and faintly shiny, in a liquid way. Turn around and let me slot this in your armor. She did so, not sure what it was. after about a minute and some odd pressure applications, he told her to load and install the thing that would have just come up.

It finished rather quickly, and a new, small silver bar appeared on her omnitool display above the blue bar that marked her shield strength. A little item, named IMP_STLH_FLD wanted her to map it to her quick slot. She picked an empty trigger stud, and clicked it, and her hand vanished in front of her. She jumped back in surprise, and if she had her helmet on, she would have seen the little silver bar drain a small bit, before restoring itself.

"You got me a cloak device?" She asked incredulously.

"No!" He said, offended. "I got you an over clocked cloak device that I have been dicking with for a few weeks. See, a regular cloak device just gives you a few seconds of stealth, then dumps all its excess energy into your omniblade or firearms capacitors when you attack. This one does all of that, but I worked my magic on it, (bought a black marked miniature fusion core) and installed it) so that if you remain stationary, it will actually be able to replenish it charge while active, and have a bout 30 seconds or so cloaked stealth move, 10 or so sprinting." She popped her quick command and reappeared.

"You really know how to spoil a girl, don't you?" She caught a lightning quick, very dark thought, before he managed to reassert his cheer. She shooed him away so she could practice taking hits from the butt of her new rifle and play with her cloak, and he moved on down the line, not needing to give any words to Rae, Jericho, or Sileen, and stopped and watched Tealsa ripping the targets to confetti with her powerful rifle.

"Don't really need to worry about grouping with that thing, do you?" Mark said after he watched her burn through 3 clips. She was a little surprised, her focus being completely on making the bulky weapon perform right for her, while it was clearly meant for a larger creature to wield. but the stabilizer cut the recoil to almost nothing, and that helped.

"Not really. it pretty much blows the hell out of anything I manage to hit."

"Hey, you are doing pretty damn good for someone who has so little time with any type of gun. Better than when I started, and I have compensators built into my arms." She turned and smiled, and he moved to her side. "Sorry if I seemed a little short with you earlier. I meant no offence by it, just to many days on to little sleep, lowers the defenses, you know? Make me a little crazy."

"No, you're ok, I shouldn't have taken it so seriously." He turned to her, looking stern.

"No, you should have. I need you guys to call me on my bullshit when that happens. Will help keep me sharp, looking out for your best interests, and not my little petty pride. So let's forget it." He smiled and held out his hand, and after a few seconds she realized she should shake it, and did.

"Good, now, how are your biotics doing." This was something Tealsa wanted to show off. Her biotic power was so much stronger now than she had ever experienced. She was practicing constantly, lifting things, pushing things, anything she could do that wasn't harmful to anything. She even managed to float herself a short bit off the ground for almost a full minute! 2 weeks prior and she couldn't even lift herself at all. Mark knew this, and the unexpected degree in which her power increased was another of the things that worried him, but he trusted that she was made of the stuff that would keep her from abusing such monumental power.

"I have been looking it up on the extranet." Tealsa said, sounding like a little girl with a present. "and I have gathered the basic principle. It's weird that they teach us the basic forms that our biotics take, but no one ever explained the "why" of it to me."

"The user folds and manipulates the dark energy their body is a conduit of, and uses it to enact a physical reaction on something, right?" Mark asked, bringing up a definition in he mind.

"Yes, in essence." She replied. "The basic, and most popular forms are all very rudimentary physical effects." She pressed a peddle, and a man shaped target appeared down range.

"A Warp will hit with a field that breaks molecular bonds within an afflicted material, weakening the structure, and corroding it." Her shoulder glowed as she summoned a meager dose of energy and cast it in a orb at the target. it exploded in blue flame as it impacted, damaging the target, and leaving a lingering ripple of purple energy on the item. little funnels of dust fell off it as the Warp ate away at the target.

"A Reave has a similar effect, but less impact in force, while it gives strength to the armor of the user who had hit the target with it. What I find interesting, is that when 2 different forms of biotics are used on a target, it creates a cascading chain reaction and a strong repellant explosion. She snapped her left hand up, palm out, and the Warped target exploded in a visible blue orb that seemed to ripple along the floor. She worked the peddle and another man shaped target appeared. She worked through the other basics. Throw enacted a violent push on a target, while shockwave hit an area to the sides, in exchange for distance. Lift disrupted the pull of gravity on a target, while a singularity would lift multiple targets based out of a single area. Barrier covered the user in a layer of protective biotics, while a Stasis locked an enemy in a envelope of permeable, but immobilizing biotics.

"So really, it's all a matter of manipulation of physics. I have come up with a few ideas of my own. Wanna see?" She was so excited at this that Mark wouldn't have said no even if he hadn't been fascinated.

Her fist item she called a Bounce. She hurled a ball of energy up, and it swung in a tight arc, and impacted the ground, creating a violent wave that launched all the surrounding area into the air. she had a follow up she called Gravity Field. She swung her arms, palm down, down from above her head, collapsing the floating targets into the ground with sickening force. She admitted she had cribbed the idea form the Slam tech, just with the added area effect that she could use thanks to her amp.

The lash she got to show was her personal favorite. She called it Crush. She peddles a final target, and jutted her hand out, palm forward, and bending the tips of her fingers inward, grabbed the target with a biotic field. She continued adding pressure, closing her hand, the effort bring dark patches to her cheeks. Her eyes narrowed as she applied more energy, the biotic glow moving up her arm and consuming her torso. The target shuddered and began to bow slightly. Tealsa had removed her coat earlier in the display, and Mark saw sweat pooping all over her body, soaking the bandages as she continued her effort. Her hand made it half closed, the target curling in on itself now. Her skin began bleaching from the strain, her pupils dilating and her entire eyes going black. A sphere of energy seemed to shimmer in existance around the crumpling target as she spreader her fingers slightly, and then gave a sharp clamp back down. The sphere shrunk around the target with a crunch, and it compressed further, her hand finally balling, and the clump of material, now an 8th of its original size dropped to the floor as the field dissipated.

Tealsa was panting, leaning against the table, but serenly happy.

"Pre...Pretty cool... huh?" SHe asked. Mark stared at her opened mouthed, and was about to reply when the deck vibrated hard beneath his feet. a second later he heard the explosion. All 4 others turned from their lanes as another explosion sounded, the deck vibrated harder, and what sounded like a wave of gunshots echoed outside the range.

end 5.


	6. The battle with C-Sec

**Mass Effect : Extinction**

_**More of the same, and perhaps a little more. Thanks to anyone who looks this over, even if you don't say anything.**_

**6:The Battle with C-sec**

Mark ejected the burned out clip from his weapon, slotted another, and pooped back up over the lip of the overturned table just in time to see the last trooper retreat back through the doorway. He saved his ammo.

"Teal, plant a Singularity in the doorway, aim for duration rather than strength, I want as much time as I can get before the next wave pushed in. She nodded, popped up from behind a shot up potted plant, and moved forward, her pistol scanning. He was proud of how well she was handling herself, having never really been in this kind of combat. It was not unusual for a soldier to go through training without a hitch, and then freeze up the first time they had to go up against an actual blood and bone enemy.

"Jericho, Rae, comb the bodies, salvage what you can, pile it in the office here." They moved out.

"Sileen, you squeamish?" The Turian snorted back a laugh. "Good, check the bodies. Here," He unclipped a clasp in his armor, an slid an eight inch blade out of its concealed sheath and tossed it to her. She caught it deftly, and noted with satisfaction that the hilt was a good fit for her hand, unlike so many other human blades. "Any of them that aren't dead, make them so, no bullets. When you are done with that, spread them around a bit, making obstacles for the next wave." She nodded and hopped over the makeshift barricade. There was a sucking of air and flash of blue light, and a shifting singularity now covered the doorway, as Tealsa walked back.

"Snow." Mark said, and she faded into existence at his elbow. He sighed. "You're going to be doing that a lot, aren't you?" She hugged his arm.

"You have no idea." There was a smile in her voice.

"Ok, you and Teal, check our people here, and move all the living back into the offices behind us. If anyone needs to get carried, call Jericho and have him help. There was a Medigel dispenser in the break room, burn through that first, use your judgment on the dosages. If you need help gauging the Turians, call in Sil." Mark turned away, motioning for the two standing C-sec employee's he had with him, to follow.

"Armory." He stated, and the human, a little blond thing hoisting a Predator took the lead position, heading to the armory. The other, a Salarian, Mark got beside. "You know this place, go through, round up anyone else you can, have them rally here." The frog hesitated, and Mark gave him a slap on the shoulder and he got moving. Damned C-sec.

After the second explosion, and the gunfire, Mark and team had rushed to find out what was going on only to crash head long into a cluster of Cerberus troopers, the lead element of their strike force. Mark's hooked blade, which he referred to as "Throat Ripper" flashed out and snapped open,catching the seal at the first troopers neck line and tore a bloody gash in it as he used his weight to ride the trooper as it fell to the ground in the direction Mark desired. Sileen, who had been next on his heel, and being a front line veteran, reacted almost as fast, slamming into the trooper to the left of the confused pile with a tackle, and getting clear of Jericho's line of fire, who let loose a blast from his street sweeper as soon as Sileen was clear. As Sileen drove her curved omniblade under the ribs and upward into the chest of the man she had hit, the blast from Jericho's weapon had liquefied the trooper directly in front of it, as the cone of projectiles sliced into the two behind it, the force still sufficient in force to pierce their armor and shred their insides. The slithered to the ground, peppered with bleeding holes.

The action was so quick, it lasted about three seconds, and left 5 troopers dead. Snow had flashed out and caught the arm of the last trooper before it could get of a shot, gripping the gun wrist with her left hand, and striking upward, snapping the elbow and catching the Hornet as it bounced out of the troopers twitching hand with her right. He screamed as she twisted his broken arm behind his back, and forced him into the doorway the assault had pushed through, firing at the bulk of the force in the reception area as she went. Raeka followed closely, her Rifle barking, and somewhat more slowly by Tealsa. The trooper that Snow had absorbed the bullets for Snow, and Raeka let of and Incinerate and she dove and spun, bracing on the floor as she kicked over a low table and covered behind it. Tealsa had her Harrier leveled at a trooper, but hesitated. One of the others noticed this, and snapped his weapon up, popping off a three round burst at the Asari. She jumped as her barrier flared over her face, and her finger jumped on the trigger. The trooper she was aiming at fell, half his face blown away, and she snapped out of her shock. She switched targets, blew the front of the trooper who fired at her open, and hit a third with a throw that knocked it back with a flip into a fourth as she tucked in behind a decorative plant.

"Nice, Teal." Snow shouted, slapping a sticky grenade to the rear of the mostly pulped troopers corpse she was coving behind. She triggered her cloak and threw the corpse forward as she dove to the right, covering on the open doorway of the C-sec greeters cubicle. A trooper moved aside as the bloody body moved past, and the grenade detonated behind it, killing it and sending the body forward with a wet crunch. Snow saw somewhere in the range of 12 more troopers still trying to enter. A force this large could only mean that they wanted to neutralize the C-sec office before it could muster an alarm.

Snow had not had much chance to look, but there were at least 2 C-sec people returning blind fire shots at the Cerberus, although at least 3 of the bodies she saw were dead.

There was a loud pop, a sizzle, and rush of air, and Sileen came rocketing out on her booster jets, slamming into the lead element of the troopers trying to get inside, exploding in a wave of fire as the strike dumped a wash of exhaust over the procession. She landed an omnibladed blow to the left temple of a trooper, before triggering the jets back, and leaping clear. Lines of white vapor flew to the burning troopers as Mark advanced, each clunking shot of his Saber leaving a dead trooper. He hit the table and ducked to reload. And just like that, with a final burst from Sileen's rifle, the fight was over.

Mark followed the blond woman, who led him to a door locked with a palm print. She turned her light blue eyes to him.

"I do not have authorization." She said meekly. "You have to be an full officer to draw weapons. I am just the receptionist." Mark pointed to the pistol she had clamped in her hands. "I grabbed it when Williams was shot." She said, looking guilty.

"No worries then, you are doing real good for a non combatant." Overall, he was not surprised that most of the C-sec had been eliminated so quickly. After the Citadel had been attacked by the Geth (now confirmed that they were working for the Reapers) C-sec recruitment rates had spiked. This led to more civilians assigned, and a smaller portion of ex-military personnel.

"No surprise there. I grew up on Omega." That would explain it, Mark thought. Omega was a free place, and most of that freedom was geared to violence.

"Ok, that makes sense. Is our Salarian friend expected to find anyone else?"

"No, everyone I was familiar with is either out on patrol, or rushed out front when the corridor was breached."

"Does the Salarian have clearance." She shook her head. "Okay then. Oh, I forgot, what's your name."

"Myers, sir. Angela Myers." Mark made a face.

"Ugh. Not sir. Not for a long time now. Mark, Mark Dietrich." He held out his hand and the girl shook it, looking confused.

"But... you are Alliance, right? You all have dog tags, and were using our firing range..."

"Ah, you are sharp. I like that. I was. But that was years ago. Freelancing now. Me, the other humans and the Quarian, we all did Merc work while we lived on Omega, and we picked up the Asari and Turian during a job. But we got access, because the Fem human used to be C-Sec herself. Called in a couple of favors, that kind thing."Mark explained, and the girl looked as if she accepted the story. Which was good, because that was true.

"Ok, now, I am going to open the door, but if anyone asks, one of the dead officers did it, ok?" He did not want it getting out that he could crack the lock on a C-sec security door without needing to use an omnitool. It tended to lead to awkward questions. She looked at him for a long minute, then nodded. Mark pressed his hand on the side of the palm reader, established connection, and cracked the meager security in a handful of seconds without activating his omnitool. The door slid open. He gave the sad contents a brief look over, noting that the boxes of thermal clips and a handful of confiscated grenades were the only things that he cared about. As he pulled his head out of the room, Snow walked up with Tealsa, a Turian with a shot up shoulder supported between them. The Salarian followed in their wake.

"This is the only officer left alive in the building." Snow said. He was drowsy and had a quick patch over the bullet wounds.

"Alright. Set him in the lockup. Angela, Salarian, start unloading the thermal clips and grenades into here. Snow, get with Jericho, and start making cover in the entrance room, and send Rae back to have her show Tealsa how to set another line up in the office space." The two girls moved off after setting the Turian, who passed out against the wall, and Mark began carrying of boxes of clips and setting them up behind cover positions. In a matter of about 5 minutes, they had a defensible position.

Mark called over to Tealsa.

"Oi, how much longer will the Singularity last?" She looked over at it, pulsing away as strongly as ever.

"Hell if I know. It's lasted about 6 minutes longer that I have ever held one before." Mark blinked at her.

"It's only been up for about 6 minutes."

"Yeah. I know." She answered with a flat expression.

"Hmm, I don't really know much about biotics, but I think that is pretty damn good." She smiled back.

"Thanks." Mark clapped his hands together as he turned from her.

"Alright folks, I think we have done all we can for now. Snow, do what you do, everyone else, positions, be ready to fall back if it gets heavy. Start conserving when clip piles drop to half, we don't know how much they..." He paused as Snow fired a booming shot out the broken doorway, "... how much they are willing to throw at us." Angela, Estrien, come With me please." Mark lead the woman and Salarian back through the office and into the weapon lockup. "I am locking you two in here until this is over. I had one of the girls raid your break room stores, and got some food and water for you, and I am going to fix it so that even if we get wiped, the first Cerberus unit that tries to open this door will lose at least a hand." The woman and Salarian wished him luck, and thanked him for saving them, and he sealed the door with a fun little program that would cause some damage if it was forced. He returned, and took his place behind the busted reception window just as the Singularity faded, and Snow fired again.

"Two." She said. Mark sighed.

"Snow, I can still remember back when..." *BOOM*

"Three"

"... we first pulled your nicely built little ass out of the fire..." *BOOM*

"Four."

"... and you had never even fired a gun at another living thing before." *BOOM,* *boom* As Snow picked another out of sight target off with her Widow, Jericho shredded a trooper as he poked his head around the door frame.

"And now you're five up on me and they haven't even gotten to past the door yet."

"Pretty..." *BOOM* "good, inn'it?"

"Yeah, not bad at all. Can I have a Handicap?"

"Don't you have enough of those as it is?" She shot back.

He was saved from having to think of a retort. There was a series of popping noises and smoke blossomed in the doorway blocking the entire front of the building from view. Bullets began pouring their way, and Mark tossed one of the looted frag grenades into the murk, and was rewarded with a scream of pain after the explosion. Snow triggered the Explosive mod on her Widow, and waited, switching her view to the angle mounted Iron sight.

Two heavily shielded Centurions pounded out of the gloom, and Jericho was a hair faster than Snow, due to the lack of aim required on his part. The blast from his Claymore had scattered by the time it impacted, but still was sufficiently clustered to drop the shields. The explosive coated round from snows Widow struck, and the resulting bloom of carnage splattered across everything within 10 feet. Combined fire from Tealsa, Raeka, and Sileen burned down the second in no time.

Mark felt a brief jolt of pain behind his right ear, the sign that some odd electrical activity was going on in his pickup range. He pulled it up with a glace, and the word "UNKNOWN" flashed inside his eyes. A diagram of the activity built up, a glowing red device threading to a yellow square, and a orange horizontal cylinder perched over a pair of green motors. Mark compared it to his store housed knowledge, working out in a flash what the components were.

The Red was the power plant, the lines branching from it were power cable. The yellow had to be a computer board, and the green were pivot elements, and the orange had to be a firing mechanism...

"TURRET!" He yelled, just before it's software fired up and he got a dotted line appearing in his vision, leading from the source to a target as the programming engaged. "Rae, MOVE!" Raeka dived instantly, and the shooting started, bullets whipping out of the smoke and demolishing the cover she had occupied. Snow, seeing where the hail was coming from, fired, and was rewarded with a resounding clang as the armored turret absorbed the shot.

"Still up." Mark called, as 2 more signatures pinged on his indicator. "Two more set up, fall back." Rae lashed out, hitting the damaged turret with a Sabotage virus, and commandeering it as she fell back through the door, and Jericho followed, tossing and incendiary grenade into the smoke, where scream erupted. Sileen lobbed her own grenade, and followed the other 2, moving backward and firing as she went. Raeka turned the turret around in the smoke once she took cover in the adjoining room, fixing on the heat profiles the turret "saw" and ordered it to fire. The targeted turret exploded before the other was able to destroy Raeka's commandeered one. The disturbance in the smoke from the two exploding devices gave Mark the slightest glimpse of the last turret, and he fired a marking dart at it. The small bug stuck to the surface, and the target bloomed to a full image on his HUD. Snow didn't have her helmet on, so she couldn't see it through the smoke.

"Snow! I am painting the turret on your scope!" She switched her eye back to the scope, panned a little, caught the turret and fired once, twice, three times. The turret still stood. An engineer was nearby, safely concealed, repairing it.

Tealsa popped up, fired a Shockwave into the heart of the smoke, to no effect except to disturb the smoke, but at least she was trying.. Mark picked up the only other grenade he had looted, primed it with his omnitool, and chucked it.

The was a dull chunk noise followed by a sizzling crackle of electricity as it sent volts in a wide sphere, breaking the engineers shields and fizzling his omnitool. Two loud booms from Snow, and both were down, and the swirling smoke started to dissipate. Suddenly, and figure rushed through the smoke, it's lithe body low to the ground, a long sword in its left hand, held back, and it's right extended, palm forward. It was shooting something out of the palm of its hand, and Snow had to roll behind cover as her shields popped.

Tealsa stood an threw a Warp at it, and to everyone's amazement, the damn thing caught it in a shower of biotic sparks, nullifying the attack with a clench of its fist. The nimble assailant then moved fluidly toward her, planting it's hand on the edge of the flipped table a vaulting it with a summersault and lading in front of the shocked Asari. It swung it's blade in a flat arc, clipping her pistol in two and sending her to the floor with a spurt of blood. Mark watched as the fire from Sileen and Raeka bounced off its barriers, and charged it. He dashed in close, before it had a chance to react, wrapping his right arm in with its left arm, keeping it from bending and bringing it's sword into play. The things helmet rung with the force of the punch he then delivered, cracking the glowing eye ports and snapping it's head back. The punch should have snapped it's slender neck, or caved the skull so Mark was fairly surprised when it kept moving. It pressed it's right palm flat on his chest, and he felt the tingle even before it fired off its biotic attack.

Mark was thrown backwards, his shield popping with a loud crack. The noise came from the Phantom's arm; the way Mark had threaded his arm, coupled with the fact that it was made of metal and the force he was thrown away with served to shatter the enemies arm, all but ripping it from its shoulder. Fragments of bone stuck out from the spongy layers where breaks had occurred. Mark bounced once on the floor, getting a shard of the broken glass lodged in his side, before sliding into the base of the far wall, laying crumpled there.

The Phantom fired a few shots at the doorway where Raeka was again taking shots from, and struck the door control, dropping the emergency bulkhead and sealing her and Jericho and Sileen out in a shower of sparks.. Turning to Snow, it snapped it's useless arm up, oblivious to the pain, snatching the sword out of the air with its right and advancing. Snow tossed her rifle through the broken window into the greeters cubicle, and snapped her Shuriken to bear, loosing an accurate volley of 6-round bursts. Snow could feel the cold, reptilian hate radiating from the Phantom, and saw when it was about to strike, narrowly dodging the downward cleave, but was unprepared as it checked the swing and smashed her in the face laterally with the flat of the blade, breaking her nose and knocking her to the ground on her back. It moved up slowly, twirled the blade in its hand, point over Snow's chest, and moved to drive it down.

This action was halted as something blue and glowing wrapped itself around its neck, pulling the head back. Snow sprang up, pulling its arm to extension, before driving a small stiletto that had materialized in her hand into the crook of its elbow, causing the hand to spasm and drop the sword. It jerked its arm in an arc, knocking Snow to the ground again as it grabbed at the coil on its throat. With that, Tealsa, left shoulder bleeding from a deep cut, blood coloring her chest bandages, yanked the biotic whip and swung, hurling the Phantom with a wet crunch against a far wall, just as three final assailants entered the room. With earsplitting cracks, she brought the whip to bear on the three Guardians, and while their shields absorbed the force of the blows and they continued to advance, they could not use their guns. She continued to block them, until she felt her back bump against the bulkhead. That is when eight loud booms sounded, and the guardians fell. Mark, laying on his stomach, had emptied his pistol into the backs of the troopers, not rising due to the hand size shard of glass he guessed had to be resting inside his kidney. Tealsa, still amped up, moved toward the broken phantom, that still showed signs life despite the blood and broken limbs.

"Leave it." Mark called, and when she looked at him, her eyes were aflame.

"No!" She said, and for the first time in his memory, used a human swear word. "Fuck this thing!" She reached down, and pulled it up along the wall by its neck, cocked her right fist back, and it exploded into biotic fire, coalescing into a solid glove about 4 inches thick, and pulsing as if she had put her hand in a radioactive coffee can. She punched it in the center of mass as hard as she could, and there was a blinding flash and explosion of air, leaving her clutching nothing but a handful of ash at the throat of what looked like an angel silhouetted on the wall in burn marks, with a dent in the metal where its chest used to be.

"Damn!" Mark said, staring at her as she shook from the exertion. "You swore." She looked sheepish, and then smiled weakly as she fell to her knees, sitting on her feet, pale and winded. "Snow's bad influence, if I had to guess." Tealsa just smiled again, too tired to talk as she let he chin fall to rest on her chest.

Mark turned his head to Snow, who was getting slowly to her feet. "Oi!, woman. You want to maybe step it up a bit, or you want your girlfriend to bleed out and your idol to leak all his insulin out while you dither?" Snow hurried to Tealsa, knowing that Mark would have his senses on maximum and would know, now that the engineers jamming kit was down, if anything was approaching. She activated the med scanner she had in her omnitool and scanned him briefly.

"From the looks of it, that shard missed the kidney. And anyway, Insulin comes from the Pancreas, dumb ass." She moved quickly to Tealsa and scanned her. Her shoulder cut was deep, but not quite to the bone. In just one minute she had her shoulder patched and sealed with omnigel. She had fallen asleep while her shoulder was being worked on, and Mark was glad to note that while her biotics were immensely powerful, they still had a strong drain on her unconditioned body.

He was always worried about how she would handle such power without the learned discipline to not abuse it. He felt validated based on how well it worked out in this situation. Tealsa sweet and timid personality also helped allay his worry a tad. As he lay in the pool of his own blood, he reasoned that her outburst was just, seeing as she was not used to real combat, she got cut bad by the thing, and it had tried to kill her lover. If he remembered to think of her as the teenager she really was, it was a perfectly logical reaction.

"OW!" He snapped back to the present as Snow removed the shard of glass, and sealed the wound with medigel. She held her hand out and helped him to his feet. Her nose was still bleeding freely from the smack from the phantom's blade, and her "S's" came out sounding more like "B's."

"Hurry up and get that bulkhead open. Teal's back is bleeding again, and she fractured a few bones in her hand when she vaporized that thing. I need to wrap her hand and remove her chest bandages, but I need to move her somewhere we can secure first." Mark ejected the thermal clip from his handgun and slotted a new one before moving, and walked forward as he holstered it. He turned and tossed a ovoid object out the door, which unfolded itself into a hovering turret, complete with a camera, which he keyed to movement, and left the view pane open in the corner of his vision.

"Yeah, sure, miss bossy pants. Make sure these guys are all dead, and drag in the bodies from outside. Make sure to save me a pair with all their head still intact." Snow moved and retrieved her Widow and collapsed and stowed it as Mark examined the busted control panel. As he sized up the damage, Snow moved quickly, giving each corpse a quick burst from her Shuriken, before moving outside the building to drag in the remaining corpses.

The Phantoms shots had cracked the holographic display crystals, and shattered the manual override box. He pried the dented cover off, and a jumbled tangle of burned and torn wires. The terminal at the desk started chiming, and Mark instantly had his pistol up and pointed at it before it registered that it was harmless. He walked over and keyed it to sound only.

"Hey, who's there?" The voice on the intercom said. It was Raeka.

"It's Mark, Rae, everything okay on your end?"

"All good here, Sarge..."

"Don't call me that." Mark cut her off. She exploded, cursing in both English and Quarian. The translation appeared in yellow lettering at the bottom of his eye line, and it was extremely coarse. He wondered where she learned a few of them, and was surprised that it had set off her crazy. It was probably a result of the stress, and this was just her release. Either way, he was a little glad to be on this side of the bulkhead. After a minute, She paused, panting.

"You know, I am getting a little sick of this crap." Mark said in a tired voice. "First, I got Tealsa yelling at me. Then Snow calls me stupid. And now even Raeka is tearing me a new one. I think I am done with all these bossy broads. Jericho, what do you say, after all this business is handled, you and me take off, just you and me, just like the good old days." Mark linked the audio through his omnitool, and moved back to the door, and began clearing debris from the nest.

"Nah." Jericho said, after a short pause. "I remember it was kinda fun, but I don't think it actually started getting good until we picked up Snow and Rae."

"Pfft, whatever. I see how it is. What about you Sil?" He replied, pulling out a knife and cutting away burnt wiring.

"I thought you were tired of "bossy broads."

"Yeah, but you are a military woman, and if I am up on my Turian Hierarchy Military Insignia, a Captain at that, so you are the kind of bossy that I respect. Plus, that thing you did with your little booster rockets... that was probably the coolest thing I have ever seen." She was quite for a long moment.

"I would consider it." She said, surprising Mark so badly he looked up, stopping what he was doing.. There was a slight air of nervousness in her voice. "You're confusing, but not bad, for a Human." He chuckled, returning to his work.

"Aw, coming from you, that is a rare compliment indeed. For what it is worth from me, you are an exemplary Turian." There was quiet on the other end of the line, until Raeka spoke in a very meek voice.

"I am sorry, Mark." It pinched at his heart, and he felt bad for what he said.

"Aw, you don't need to be, sweetie. You know I would never leave you. You are stuck with me for as long as you want to keep me. Now, let's get this damned bulkhead moving so I can give you a hug and tell you I love you. You said something about a green wire in-between some of the more scabrous things you called me." Her voice was still a bit shaky, but not bad.

"Up in the wall about 2 feet, there should be a clustering of green wire, you have to reach up and pull it down. Done? Okay, dig out the one labeled "9dlr5" cut it, and do the same with "14jdt4". Strip about an inch off each, and braid them. Tell me when you are done. Ok, now, I need you to send a steady electrical current through the wires at 138 volts."

Mark was pretty sure Raeka had never done this before, but he was utterly confident in her ability. She had apparently grown up in a heavily engineering family upon the Migrant fleet, and had an intuition for this type of thing that Mark could not learn to emulate, even with half of his brain being a computer. But her mind had fractured so badly while she was experimented on, she couldn't recall any of her past before Mark found her mostly dead in that alley on Noveria most of the time. When she did, she recounted them as if they were something she had seen on stereo rather than lived.

He peeled a section of his skin back on his left underarm, and drew out a small wire with a tiny clamp on the end. He attached it to the bare wire, set the voltage by eye, and let it trickle into the wires. The door immediately began to rise, and Mark killed the comms, and waited until the door settled. Raeka moved out cautiously, and Mark pulled her into a big hug, and planted a small kiss on her faceplate where he imagined her forehead was. "You crazy. You know I love you, and I would never ditch you." She pressed into him happily,

"Jericho, ready for some fun? Good. Sileen, you have any objection to fear tactics?" She met his eyes, and he liked what he saw.

"Not even a little." She grinned a predatory grin, aided in menace by her pointy teeth.

"Excellent. Jericho, help Snow carry in the bodies, then heap the most of them in front of the door, so that they need to be walked over to get in here. Sil, find the two Snow wants put aside with intact heads, and remove the heads from the bodies, and set both aside for me. After that, you and Jericho can help Snow move Teal back into the firing range, and help her however she needs. Rae, you get to come with me." He took the Quarian's hand and walked her to the other side of the door into the offices.

"Okay, I want you to rig that bulkhead so that it cannot be opened from the other side. I want it just to open from this side, and I want the control for it slaved to my omnitool. Then, I want a camera or two, you can use my turret in the corridor if you need extra parts, mounted in the corners looking down on then reception room, as much coverage as you can get, slaved to my HUD, port O59896, password "Eagle."" He set it up while he spoke, using his eyes to do it remotely, and would lock it when she finished. He didn't like giving people access to his head, and he could tell by the way she squeezed his hand that she was flattered by it. "Finally, I want you to rig that reception terminal you called me on to project loud enough that anyone in the reception area would be to hear it. Slave that to me as well, port V22689, password "shout."" He set it up as well. All good?"

"Yes sir, Sergeant." She said, but softer this time. HE grabbed her in a one armed hug.

"You're lucky you're so damned cute, or I would have you busted back to the Navy." He said, and felt her bristle as he knew she would when she thought she was a Marine. "Now, hurry up with that. Get it done quick, and you can help me hang the decorations." She liked when they got to leave a message, and jammed her arm up into the wall. Satisfied that all was well, Mark moved as Jericho and Sileen carried the passed out blue girl past, before moving to the weapons locker to check on the C-sec personnel. Snow halted him with a tap on the shoulder.

"Here," she said, before spitting out a mouthful of blood onto the floor. "I need you to set my nose back into place, the damn thing won't stop bleeding."

"Okay, if that is what you want. Want something to bite down on?" She shook her head, but placed her hands on his shoulders. He place a thumb on each side of her nose, holding on to the sides of her head. "Ready?"

"Yeth." She grunted, squeezing her eyes shut. Mark shifted his hands slightly, and there was a wet pop as her cartilage was pushed back into its groove. She let out a high pitched breath, that turned into an agonized moan, her gauntleted hand pressing hard into his shoulders as tears streamed from her closed eyes. She took a deep breath and stepped back, spit out another wad of blood. "Thanks." She said, wiping her eyes with the back of a hand, before taking off after the people carrying the Asari.

Mark shook his head, and moved to the armory door. He placed his hand on the pad, and removed his protections, standing to the side of the door before he cycled it open. Nothing happened, but it never hurt to be careful.

"You all alright?" He called, and the female voice responded.

"Yes. Phew, when I heard the locks disengage, I feared the worst." Mark pivoted and looked in. The Turian was awake, and his arm was tended to. The Salarian was out, and the empty syringe made Mark guess that he was sedated. Angela was holding a shotgun aimed at the general area where Mark's chest was, and she quickly pointed it at the ground.

"Well, we got a few scrapes, and our Asari wore herself out, but we are mostly still in good shape. We cleared out the last of them for now, but there is no telling if more are coming. So, we discovered there is an emergency bulkhead, so we are wiring that up to seal us in until the situation is under control. So feel free to stir about, just avoid the entrance area if you are squeamish, we are doing so.. remodeling."

He turned away, felt a ping behind his right eye, and a camera feed fuzzed into life in the corner of his vision, showing Rae's faceplate. Say what you will, but the girl worked fast. He moved out into the reception area, where Jericho and Snow were piling the bodies in the doorway as if they fell while charging the position. Sileen looked up as she finished parting the head from a dead engineer. She had spread lines of blood on her face as a kind of war paint.

"Hey, Sil, is that _human_ blood you are painting your face with?" She turned to slowly look at him, allowing herself a defiant look, the kind not allowed in the Turian chain of command.

"Yes it is. Is that a _problem_ for you, little man?" Her eyes sparkled, and Mark thought he got a glimpse at something. She was being almost playful.

"Sileen... you really, _really_ like this stuff, don't you?" She gave the Turian Equivalent of a smirk. "Okay, I think it is a problem for me. If you got cut on the face, and some of that dripped in, couldn't it kill you?" She looked at him for a long moment before his objection registered, and she shook her head, a little disappointed.

"No, it would probably burn pretty good, but it wouldn't do any lasting harm."

"Alright, then, have at it." She sighed.

"You are entirely too agreeable sometimes." Mark nodded, and Raeka tapped him on the shoulder, showing him that she had finished her assigned tasks. HE looked quickly around, found a damaged chair with a steel poled frame, and pulled it apart, handing two of the now 2 foot long poles to the Quarian.

"Here you go, do what you want." He didn't need to see her face to know the grin was there, and the tucked the poles under her arm and a dripping head in each hand. Mark then moved and helped nail bodies to the walls. In another few minutes, the entire office looked like 12 troopers had come in, exploded, and stuck to the walls and in one creative area, ceiling. Looking over the work one last time, he let his girls pass him in, then sealed the door to wait for when the wards calmed.

(...)

"Boss! You need to see this!" An overworked Turian C-Sec officer called. His lieutenant, a human female, looked back, and walked over, rifle raised due to his tone. He indicated that she look into the corridor he was supposed to have cleared, his face grim. She pushed her bangs out of her face and looked around the corner, then retracted her head and vomited. She steadied herself, hunched over for a second, before wiping her mouth with the back if her arm.

"Yeah, it's pretty bad, eh?"

"That's a word for it." She said, closing her eyes but still seeing the gore drenched station behind her lids. "This is worse than the last three we've checked. Damn Cerberus bastards, it's bad enough they hit us, but they didn't have to do this." The Turian looked back to her.

"Um... chief, take another look. Those bodies ARE Cerberus." She looked up, then cautiously looked back around the corner. The shock wasn't as bad now that she was braced for it. Sure enough, the bodies pinned to the walls, and heads mounted in stakes at the entry were indeed clad in Cerberus armor.

"Hey, lady!" The Lieutenant jumped as the voice came from the reception counter. The Turian behind her leveled his rifle at the source of the noise. "You don't look like Cerberus. Who are you?"

"Who the hell are you?" She shot back, her own pistol leveled at the unseen speaker.

"The guy who held out against a whole Cerberus strike force, and managed to keep 3 of the local C-Sec people alive in the process, then rigged this little display, which kept two other Cerberus sweep teams from trying to force their way in here after us. So, I believe the question would be, who are you, who comes to my area, and point guns at my setup?" The Lieutenant was still fairly nauseous from the carnage, and was rather pissed at being talked down to like this.

"I am Lieutenant Kristina Miller of Citadel Security." It took a force of will not to swear at the stranger.

"Oh, well why didn't you say that, come on back." There was a crackle of static as the mike cut out, and a hiss as the bulkhead's hydraulics released and is slid out of the way. She signaled for the Turian to stay and watch her back, and moved carefully forward slowly, not wanting to slip on the bloody floor. As she arrived at the door, she was hit by a wave of heat that almost rocked her back. She shook it off, and moved in, sweeping with her pistol, and stopped dead in incredulity at what she found. Sitting at a round table, she found a man who was sitting in his underwear, large white scars around both his shoulders. To his left, a little blond woman was sitting in a white bra, and to her left, a Turian striped to the waist sat. All three were sweating heavily in the heat, and playing cards. In the back of the room, a woman wearing nothing but a small pair of panties was wrapping a set of long white bandages around the chest of an Asari who was laying on the table. As the Lieutenant stood there, speechless, the scarred man turned to look at her, and smiled.

"I know that look all too well. Before you ask, when my Quarian friend was rewiring the emergency power to give us control of the bulkhead, she had to cut out control of the cooling systems, which just so happened to turn this place into a sauna. So, Loot, what the hell happened out there?"

"Wait, who the hell are you, and why are you in this office?" She was weirded out by the strangers calm, slightly jovial attitude. He turned to the blond woman.

"Sorry, Ma'am," the woman said. "My name is Angela Meyers, and I am the reception officer for this C-Sec station. This man, Mark, and his team were using our range to test and hone their equipment when a Platoon of Cerberus troopers stormed in and started killing everyone. If it were not for their intervention, I fear all of us here would have been killed, as Darnu here was already down, and the only other staff left alive are myself and the technician, who is still sedated and sleeping in the break area." Angela moved to her discarded shirt, and pulled he ID badge off and presented it to the superior officer. Mark, who was watching the pale Lieutenant carefully while the story was told, could tell she was very skeptical.

"How many are you?" She asked, her gun not quite aimed at him.

"Me, Snow, and Tealsa, here, "He motioned to the girls as he said their name, wondering faintly if Snow wished her armor had room to wear under clothes with it, but doubted she cared; Snow was comfortable in her skin. "Then somewhere in the back, resting or some such, there is the big guy, Jericho, a Quarian, Raeka, and a little Turian tart, Sileen." The Human cocked an eyebrow at the accounting, but not do to the racial content of the party, being C-Sec she was used to seeing a wide variety of races working closely. It was more that she had her doubts, based on the casual air the man wore, that any of them other than the Turian mentioned would be experienced enough to account for the body count she had seen outside.

"And you six managed to kill all those highly trained Cerberus troops that pretty much tore through all the C-Sec personnel they could find?"

"Well, we surprised them almost as bad as they surprise us, at first. Helped a little." She still looked obviously skeptical, and Mark Sighed. "Look, Ma'am, I can understand that you find this a little farfetched. Technically, I suppose we could be consider a small band of Mercenaries, though I prefer a term something more like "Civilian Contractors." I served a grip of years in the Alliance, Snow here was C-Sec for much longer than she'd care to admit, Jericho came from a pioneer world out in the Traverse, and Raeka lived with us working combat jobs out on Omega for the last couple years. Sileen was Career Military until some REMF-er cashed her chip for political reasons, and Tealsa, we, what she lacks in experience, she makes up for in moxie. We came to the Citadel to re-arm and try to enlist to join the war effort, so give us a break here, we helped you out."

Much as she disliked the way he spoke down to her, she did respect what he said, if it was true.

"And how do I know that isn't just a line of crap?" Mark sighed explosively, even as he registered that it was a valid response.

"Here, dossiers." He activated his omnitool and sent the files her had used when trying to get enlisted with his group. She opened her own, still keeping her gun pointed in his direction, and quickly skimmed the files. She finished, shutting off the display, and lowered the gun.

"Alright, that will do, I suppose. There was a major coup attempted pulled, and one of the council was killed. We can't afford not to be careful, you know." Mark nodded sagely.

"I can appreciate your position, Lieutenant." He clapped his hands together. "Now, how can we help?"

The Lieutenant and her compatriots waited while Mark and his crew re geared, and supplemented her workforce as they swept the remaining 5 outposts in their area, finding no other survivors. Apparently, once the attempt on the full council was thwarted, Cerberus made a full retreat, leaving gear and even wounded behind. After the sweep was finished, the six were given bunks in the communal barracks of the wards C-Sec offices, where they were more than happy to crash. As Mark was about to pass out, he felt the slight buzz in his skull, meaning he had received a message. He triggered it without opening his eyes, and read it on the back of his closed lids. Their orders had come through, and they would be heading to Menae upon the _Glory Road_ in 2 days. He flagged a memo for the morning, cleared his display, an passed out.


	7. The Glory Road

**Mass Effect : Extinction**

_**More of the same, and perhaps a little more. Thanks to anyone who looks this over, even if you don't say anything.**_

**7:The Glory Road**

Two days and 6 hours of sleep later, Mark and his crew were sitting in an old, dark docking bay, their last few belongings backed in with their gear, as they waited for the _Glory Road _to dock so they could depart. The last two days had been a series of grillings from a variety of C-Sec officers of various caliber. Mark figured they would have gotten in less trouble if he had let the Cerberus troopers kill all the C-Sec in the post, then shot their way out and disappeared. HE could not blame them for the suspicion through. There was no pretense now; Cerberus had opened a whole second front in the middle of a war of genocide. These "phantom" units had a lot of brass spooked with their powerful biotics and high and low tech weapons and methods. The fact that Snow held onto and wore the sword she had lifted off the one Tealsa vaporized did tend to draw attention, but she wouldn't toss the damn thing.

Apparently, one of the fun new tactics the navies had to deal with were these phantoms cloaked and sneaking onto ships, where they would slowly pick off the ship's crew from stealth, only to vanish before anyone could react. There were several reports of this throughout the Citadel as well, holdouts from the failed coup raising discord amongst the civilian ranks.

Mark cleared these thoughts, and pulled the outer hull cams feed into his own net, requisitioning it to look over the ship now that the basic visual equipment mounted outside the lock could make contact.

The _Glory_ lived up to the old saw about the glory road being lined with rocks. If the old transport were a ground vehicle, it would have been referred to as a beater. Scratches and dents, tears, burns and one straight up gash marred the outmost armor of the old ship. It was shaped basically like a elongated cube with stubby wings that existed just to mount 2 cannons and a missile rack on each, and a single, dorsal mounted Mass Driver seemed to have been welded shoddily to the spine of the craft. He had pulled the ships service record earlier, and he found it interesting. Commissioned long ago, back when deep space travel was still in it infancy for humans, the Mass Effect core was not actually the main propulsion system, but instead an addition that funneled it's thrust through the old charred engine cones that were used back when it's nuclear powered engine was still a functional staple of space faring craft. It had served in the Alliance since the old days of first extra solar colonization, and had a proud military record as well. If the record was to be believed, it had even seen limited action during the Battle of the Citadel 4 years prior. She just refused to die, but unable to keep pace with the newer ships, she now served as a kind of private transport for some not so secret special forces group that was sent in to fight holding actions or tackle objectives that were too odd for a traditional deployment. Kind of an interspecies A-Team, if you will.

He had also browsed the dossiers of some of the crew. He skimmed the Capitan and helmsman, then looked to the command structure of the ground forces officers, of which there was only one, a surprise when the number of troops was this high. The officer in charge was one Major Kiliken, decorated in numerous theaters over the past dozen years, highly respected, numerous promotions turned down to maintain his deployments in the field. HE then browsed the crew rooster of the clearly special forces group, noting not names of anything trivial like that, but rather were they came from. It was odd to see Krogan, Salarian, and Turian soldiers serving together anywhere, but downright weird to see mercenary versions of the same in this close of proximity to each other without murder brawls breaking out. Asari commandos, Salarian STG, Quarian Marines, Krogan Juggernauts, Turian Havoks, and even combat rated Volus combat engeeners were on the docket. A squad of Vorcha Firebrands, Batarian Specialists, N7 operatives, a Valkyrie , Demolisher, and Crusader, and even a pair of Elcor heavies. This was a ship clearly meant to raise some serious hell wherever it went. Mark was pleased to see a full complement of standard ground troops, made up of solely human and Turian forces, rounded out the roster.

Mark shook himself awake as a loud clang echoed through the hull plates at his feet as the _Glory _docked with the station, pressures equalized, and their chariot opened. A man walked out to greet the newcomers.

(...)

Major James Kiliken, in a plain ship suit devoid of decoration save the mandatory shoulder pips that denoted his rank, walked out into the flexible tubing that lead from his ship to the backwoods dock on the Citadel. He had a standing queue that various branches of the Alliance would forward Dossiers of potential recruits to his program to him. He had received one about a week prior, and had the good fortune to be en route to the Citadel at the time. His units had just stalled, and then repelled a full scale Cerberus invasion out in the traverse, saving a rather large civilian population, along with a handful of cross species colonists and science types. They suffered their losses, but with the Reaper front still swelling over so much, there was no shortage of talent cropping up for him to draw from. This one had flagged his interest.

An Ex soldier, served a 2 year hitch back during the sparring with the Geth until just before the Collector attacks, disappeared with his honorable discharge, seemingly without a trace. Rumors of activity on Omega, and a grand total of 8 seconds of patched together security footage. That was the best the Shadow Brokers agents had been able to gleam for him. His Military records were ... odd. Clearly, this person was exceptional in almost all the feats he attempted, but the sparse video documentation that was in his file seemed to show him holding back. Plus there were curious anomalies and missing data, but the picture Kiliken saw showed a good soldier who didn't want to be a soldier. He took it as a good sign of his character that now that the Reapers had emerged, he wanted to get into the fight.

The Airlock door hissed slowly, and with a slight hesitance borne of disuse, out of the way, revealing an odd sight that years of training and practice kept any trace of expression off of Kiliken's face. He had expected one man, and what he saw was a squad. A less experienced man would have seen an odd collection of various species loafing while waiting for a flight, but subtle hints showed that this was in fact a squad of troops. The orientation of their bodies, the directions they faced, the way the Asari and Turian looked to the smaller human male while the tiny female, giant man, and slight Quarian looked past himself before relaxing slightly, the way the tiny female's hand was resting seemingly casually on the white Hornet Submachine gun clipped to her side. These people worked together. The smaller male walked forward.

"Howdy, Major Kiliken." It was not a question, and Kiliken was perfectly aware that his name had not been mentioned in the brief sent with the orders to report to this bay for pickup. This man was getting intel from somebody. "As I am sure you are aware, I am Mark Dietrich. Thanks for the lift, getting a cab off this rock is a little difficult at present." The man reached out a hand, and Kiliken shook it, used to the lack of military formality within his unit due to its diversity of backgrounds.

"It is nice to meet you." He replied, a rusty Kansas drawl stuck to his words. The other man smiled slightly, but did not speak. "I am afraid that I was not expecting this group. When I received your enlistment request, I was only given your name." Mark sighed heavily.

"Damn it. This is what you get for letting green recruits work the recruitment centers. I specifically applied as a full squad. Figured the little sob would louse it up. Very well, if it is a problem, I will wait for another junker to come along. I do not go without my team." Kiliken reviewed his ranks in his mind quickly.

"There is enough room to support your team, we are a bit less strict here than most traditional outfits." Mark smiled warmly, then slyly.

"I can only imagine, Major. Don't know how you manage to ride herd on a group like this, much less keep the Salarians and Krogan from killing each other." Kiliken's eyebrow rose a fraction of a centimeter. This was again more info than was in the deployment orders.

"All this info you have, makes me curious where you are getting it." The major said causally. Mark chuckled.

"You would be amazed at how easy it is to breach the firewalls on a recruitment officers terminal are, when he is using it, and he doesn't know you can root through it without an omnitool." The Major chucked back.

"I suppose that is quite a feat to accomplish." He said, and Mark shrugged.

"Not if your brain is a computer. Anyway, meet my crew." He turned slightly, and motioned for one to step forward with his head. "This is Jericho, giant man, and nicest guy you are ever likely to meet." The man shook the Major's hand, which seemed tiny in comparison, and stepped aside. Mark whistled, and the Quarian stepped up and Saluted. The Major was pleasantly surprised at seeing the act performed by the slender alien, and she turned on her heel and marched to join Jericho.

"That was Raeka, don't mind her, her mind comes and goes when we have down time." The Major would have liked some elaboration at this, but it would have to wait, for the female Turian moved up.

"Sileen Orcahe, sir." She said, and shook his hand. Here armor was different from any he had seen on the other Turian soldiers, heavier looking, yet possessed of more sharp angles. He made a mental note to ask someone about it. Last, the tiny female human with the sword mounted on her back came forward, holding hands with the Asari.

"I am Snow," The human said, and his hand felt almost as big as it felt small in the giant man's hand by comparison, "and this is Tealsa." The Asari gave a friendly nod, and smiled warmly.

It was an odd group to be sure, but it was diverse as well, with a clear long distance marksman, Biotic, engineer, and at least 2 straight soldiers. He was not displeased at having accidently pulled an entire strike team. Their deployment was going to be a bad one, and they would need all the talent they could get.

"We picked up all our provisions and the rest of the recruits already, so we are shipping out. Anything else you need to take care of?" They all shook their heads, and the Major nodded. "Alright, then allow me to welcome you aboard the "_Glory Road._" He turned and, seeing Mark fall in behind him, and the rest of the group fall in behind Mark, walked through the plastic tube and into the ships airlock. The major talked as the airlock cycled shut, and the tube retracted.

"Normally, a carrier would be used to ferry the amount of troops we have on board, but seeing as we need the maneuverability, and ships are at a premium, we were given this retrofitted cargo freighter." He moved into his well used speech. "In this ship, we have assembled some of the greatest talent in the field of war in the galaxy. We have drawn from all species, all branches of the various militaries, and even those who lay outside the normal range of soldiers, including Mercenaries, privateers, bounty hunters, and other such areas." He paused as there was a hiss of pressure as the passage finished contracting, and the secondary airlock closed. The intercom fuzzed to life, and the Capitan spoke over it.

"All hands brace for maneuvering, 2 minutes, and transition to FTL, 3 minutes." The Major grabbed a well worn handhold, and the new recruits followed his example.

"We won't be cycled through until after we hit FTL, the original owners left in some weird design flaws that we just haven't had time to correct, as our maintenance crew is also combat crew, and they are too busy with regular maintenance to address such a minor issue with this, as it's a secondary airlock." He faced the party. "Here." He opened his Omnitool with a click, and with a second button, sent a file to all the rest. "I just sent you a map of the ship, with a multi language legend, for those who can't read Standard. We have all the standard facilities, a mess hall, hospital, armory, and bunkhouse. Due to the premium of space and over load of people, we have convertend the main Cargo hold into a barracks, and it is where all but the officer core will be billeted. Once we get you inside, I will have Corporal Martinez draw you bunks." The first noticeable movement struck, jolting them sideways as the ship changed course.

"Can save you a bit more space, chief." Mark said, who unbeknownst to the others had used his computer brain to crack into the flight computers, and was watching from the camera's mounted on the ship's hull, so he could anticipate the jarring movements. "Teal and Snow doss together, and Rae will doss with either me or Jericho, so we will only take up 4 beds, instead of six. Still 3 more than you were expecting, but we can double up on storage space as well; we travel light."

"That may be a good idea, later, but for now, we have enough billets for all of you." He was cut off by the blare of the acceleration warning and the Capitan's voice again. "All hands, brace for acceleration in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1..." The voice was drown out by a loud humming, and the deck plates shook with a rumble as the Mass Effect core spun up and threw them into Faster Than Light travel. "Transition successful. ETA to the Mass Relay, 4 hours. Arrival at destination placed at 8 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes." The intercom cut out with a buzz od static, and there was a loud, long hiss as the airlock was matched with the pressure in the ship.

"Alright, follow me and I will show you to the barracks and armory, so you can stow your armor. If you need, we can pull ship suits out of stores for wearing in transit." Major Kiliken strode into a dim cargo bay, cramped with crates of supplies and materials. It was one of 4 identical spaces that made up the lowest deck of the ship, and the ships brig. One deck up, was the Main section of the ship, which from stem to stern contained the flight deck, bunkhouse and officers offices and the mail room, the mess hall, the showers, main storage A.K.A the Barracks, and then the main drive core, sitting right up against the engine cones. Finally, one deck up from that was located Engineering, maintenance supplies, the armory, and the living systems of the ship, such as water, heating, air filtration and scrubbers, and sanitation. They moved through one room, an into a large lift, which ground it's way up to the space between Cargo and the engine room. The Major led them off the lift and to the left, or ship forward, and into a cavernous area that was densely populated.

Rows upon rows of metal framed bunk beds sized to fit a Krogan ran in columns 6 deep and 12 long along both sides of the space, filling roughly 80% of the space, the rest of which was dedicated as through fares, one main road down the middle, and all the little arterials between the rows of bunks. Each bed had a locker welded to the frame, and a footlocker shelved underneath that retracted below the bed when not in use. It being close to midnight, ships time, most of the billets were occupied by the ships widely differentiated combat staff. Here and there, a soldier was sitting up, reading, or sharpening a blade, polishing armor, repairing equipment, or any of the various tasks that made up shipboard life. The was a constant din of low conversation in the room, combining with the snores of the sleeping, and the noises that come from any crowded room. The Major walked confidently down the marked isle in the center of the room, the other people following. The last of Marks team had just entered the room, when a cry rose out somewhere forward right of their position.

"Phantom!" The cry echoed in the cavernous room, and there was a loud swishing noise as those who possessed their weapons in their sleeping quarters drew and aimed at the indicated. The Major had missed who called out, and these claims were taken seriously, especially recently. He had his side arm out and saw the rifles of his men pointing behind him and he turned, only to see the black eye of a handgun he did not recognize looking into his own eyes.

"Weapons down or this guy's brain is going to have company." Mark said calmly, yet loud enough for it to reach every corner of the still room. Not a single gun lowered, but half the aimed weapons shifted to Mark. Behind him and to the left, Jericho stood, Claymore aimed at a cluster of hostiles. Sileen was behind and to the right, her own rifle leveled at what she gauged as the most pressing threat. Raeka was further back to the left, weapon up and sweeping slowly, and to the right in the same line, Tealsa stood, both arms to the elbow shimmering with pulsing biotic fire, ready to burn down anyone who threatened her. Snow had been pushed into the center, shielded as much as possible, her Hornet ready to strike. The Major stared calmly at Mark, then whispered in a voice only the other man could hear.

"You know, putting a gun in my face is not a great move."

"Yeah," Mark replied without moving his head, eyes locked with the Major's, "and I don't like a room for of supposedly friendly troops aiming guns at my family without so much as a word." The Major knew the other man had a good point, if that was true.

"Your family?"

"Yes. They are not just my team, they are my family." They kept their eyes locked, and the Major saw no lies there.

"Weapons down." He yelled to the assembled crowd. Several dropped their weapons aim down, but kept the weapons at the ready. The was a wave of grumbling, and rifles were still leveled at Mark and Snow. The Major, letting some anger color his voice, spoke again. "I said, weapons down. There are no hostiles, these are the new recruits we just picked up." Another wave for the soldiers hesitantly lowered their weapons, leaving about 10% of the troops, mostly humans, still aiming at the newcomers. A flash of anger passed the Major's face. Mark gave him a soft chuckle.

"I feel your pain, Major. You must be well respected indeed to have this many wanting to take a shot at me that they are willing to disobey you just to put a few holes in me."

"Are you a real threat to me?" He asked, still in the prison whisper." Mark took a quick look around, noting that all the guns were aimed at him now. "Nah, I just knew what was thought when the shout came, and I figured if you were a hostage, it would hold the fingers long enough for you to get a grip on the situation. No offense meant, of course." The Major gave the slightest of nods, what he said made sense, and he was impressed at how quickly the mans mind worked.

"You are aware I cannot, for the sake of discipline, let you off without punishment?"

"Of course. Not a problem. As long as I can get about 10 hours of uninterrupted sleep, I am fine with that."

"Last chance, anyone who does not lower their weapons now will face disciplinary charges!" He roared, and hesitantly, the final weapons were lowered. Mark, without shifting, dropped his hand from the grip of his gun, letting it fall around his finger on the trigger guard, and did not move until The Major relieved him of it. "I am remanding you to the custody if the Brig." He turned his head. "Martinez! Pull 6 bunks, and assign them to this lot, then give 'em the tour." A weedy looking little Salarian stepped forward, as the Major walked Mark back to a cell, signed him over to the Turian brig officer.

(...)

"Come on, Flux, you're breaking my balls here." Mark said, as he saw yet another loosing hand he had drawn. He had managed a pleasant 12 hours of sleep, a nice, if plain meal, and was in high spirits, and none of his people had seen the need to contact him, which meant that all was well. So, as he entered the last hours of his sentence, he took to trying to irritate his jailer. She was a small female Turian, with blue tattooing that he couldn't read, but a brief look into the extranet told him that she was one of the extremely rare Cabal Biotics. She went simply by flux, and had been on the ship longer than most. SO he made conversation, and learned how things worked.

The heavy Turian population on the ship was not a surprise, seeing as it was the new Primarch, Victus, had proposed this junket. While they held ground in all the ground theaters of war, there was also a need for a team to hit targets of opportunity that conventional strikes couldn't reach, or be expended upon. This strike team was developed to do just that, started by the Turian's and Human's, and then expanded as its successes started to trickle in. Now, there were a constant compliment of around 300 troops stationed on the ship. During an operation, they were usually deployed in teams of 4, of all different specializations, or in larger clusters of groups of like specs, depending on the objective. They were currently headed to Menae, to buffer some lines, and secure some highly contested territory, in an attempt to take some pressure off the Turian fleets.

Mark tosses his cards through the bars of his cell, back onto the table Flux had pushed up close enough that he could reach it.

"Damn, human, good thing we aren't playing for real money, or you would be boned." Mark chuckled, and the girl tilted her head quizzically. "What?"

"You said boned." She blinked at him, then shook her head, gathering up the cards, and passing them too him. "Your deal, idiot." Mark shuffled the cards and dealt another hand.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I would say you didn't like me, Flux." She snorted as she dropped two cards, and replaced them.

"Well, if I am, as you put it, breaking your balls, whatever that means, I would assume so as well."

"Oh, that. It's an idiom, like "you're killing me." The "balls" are a part of the male human anatomy where the seed is stored, and are particularly sensitive to violent acts, such as breaking." He exchanged his own cards, and looked at his hand. Crap. The Turian grinned.

"With luck this bad, I am surprised you requested service with us." Mark cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I didn't request a Spec ops deployment. I simply wanted to get to the front lines and join the fight. Time just happened to sync up. But Still I don't want to be in your group, per se. I want to be out there on the ground, causing hell and making sure my honor guard to the afterlife is just chock full of the bastards." The Turian was quiet as she shuffled the cards, thinking.

"You know what we do is just as important as those on the front lines, right." Her voice was quiet, and almost accusatory. Mark stayed quiet and allowed her to continue. "The targets we hit aren't vanity targets for moral and stuff like the reports make it sound like. The things we do, that no one else can, keeps our supply lines open, distracted reinforcements of the enemy, clean up areas that are too messy or restrictive to allow regular strikes to be effective. It sucks that we spend so much time in transit, but we are making a difference out there, even if it feels like we are just screwing around." Mark sighed.

"I know, I wasn't being accusatory. I just like a straight fight where it feels like it will do the most good."

"Then you are in the right place. Trust me." Mark looked at her for a long moment, then sighed again.

"Maybe. Lord knows I am not the long view type, but I will give it a shot. No guarantees that I won't try and stay when you all leave, but I will think about it." The words were empty, as he would do whatever the group, or rather more likely Snow, would want to do. Flux nodded.

"Alright then, would you say you are reformed, and have given up your criminal tendencies?" She queried, her tone shifting to that of her usual friendliness.

Well, I can't promise I have gotten all the sexual harassment out of my system, but other than that, I think I can behave." She gave the Turian equivalent of a giggle.

"It's so refreshing to find someone aboard this ship that isn't all doom and gloom, and seems to be lacking the rigid military stick up their ass." She said, unlocking the cell door, and opening it for him. He walked out, smirking.

"Give it time, baby, the day is still young." He slapped her in her ass region, and she jumped, too shocked by the action to do more than gawk at him. He looked surprised, then smirked again. "Aw, let that be a lesson to you, sweetie. Don't send out signals you're too shy to back up." Mark liked to imagine that she was blushing, but he wasn't rated in Turian nonverbal communication well enough to tell, and Sileen was no help here; he doubted she had ever blushed.

Flux slowly regained her composure, and cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed.. Life within the Cabal was fairly sheltered. She had only ever been closely associated with the 11 other members of her Cabal, rarely having any interaction with an outsider, save when she was making them dead. Sure, some the infiltrators in the Cabal were worldly, but they had to be in order to effectively blend in with strangers, but Flux had always been used as a high power offensive unit, no subtlety required.

Her years of rigid discipline were all that held her together as this unexpected contact shook her to her core. She had never been touched by a human before, much less in such a private area.

An alert popped up in Marks vision, showing a heavy spike in some long ass word, that he checked and discovered was the Turian stress hormone. Usually to faint for him to pick up, this girl was practically sweating it. He turned up his aural gain. And at two steps higher, he could hear the poor girls hard thundering from 5 meters away.

_Shit,_ he thought, _I think I went to far. Damn it._

"Hey, Flux, are you okay?" He lowered his voice to a soothing sound, and her eyes darted to him, then away. She nodded stiffly. "Oh, I am sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I am use to a more... intimate style of banter, and got carried away. Want to sit down or something?" Mark was at a loss, and vowed to keep his hand to himself until he was contacted from now on.

She swallowed heavily, then shook her head.

"No.. *ahem* ... no, sorry, I am alright. Just a little shocked." Mark was truly remorseful, and looked sheepish.

"I am sorry."

"It's okay, I didn't mean to react so... strongly... I just..." being around this human was weird. He was Almost a complete stranger, but she felt at ease with him, and she didn't know why. "It's just... I had never actually... been touched by... by a... by a human before. Well, by any other race, really."

"Oh, Lord, I am so sorry. It never fails, give me an inch, and I will make an ass out of myself. Um..." He looked at her, and thought she looked a little pale. He felt bad for how much of a shock it must have been. Lord knows how he himself would have felt when he was back on earth, if some Hanar or something had just come up and touched him. He decided to play his trump card. "Er... I have something that may help, if you can keep a secret." He got a brief thought, that maybe she wasn't just randomly assigned down here, but volunteered in order to keep away from the crowded areas of the ship where possible, that maybe she didn't freely associate with many outside of combat. He thought back to her telling about the ship and some of its tenants, and realized they did lack a kind of personal flavoring.

She looked back at him, and nodded.

"I think I can manage." He felt bad for her again, and figured he might have to introduce her to Snow. Nobody could feel awkward around her, she would make a good practice human.

"Well, I think you can count your record of "no alien touched" intact." He held up his hand. "This is not a real hand." She blinked at him, forgetting some of her fluster in her confusion.

"Uh... what?"

"I will show you." He started to unclamp his armor's locking clips, but stopped quickly, looking back up to Flux. "Umm... I would need to take off my torso armor to show you. Would that bother you?" She seemed to think about it for a second, then shook her head.

"No, I will be fine. Braced for it now." He popped the recessed clips holding the right arm casing tight, then released the interior magnetic seal in the shoulder cuff's locking collar. He mirrored it on the left side, then snapped open the locks down each side, where as both the front and the back armoring fell to the floor, leaving the air tight soft suit exposed. He removed the upper arm and shoulder plates, and the wrist armor and gauntlets next. He didn;t usually wear his armor to bed, but he had been too tired to care, and with the reduced sensation in his limbs, he had not noticed it enough to be bothered when he woke.

The soft suit came in 7 pieces: 2 shoes, pants, shirt, 2 gloves, and a neck seal that attacked to its mate in the neck of the armor's helmet. Each piece was connected via a zippered pressure seal that functioned when pressurized oxygen was used.

He removed the gloved, the unzipped the front seal, puling the garment off, and revealing his pale chest. Flux looked him over, taking in the unfamiliar sight with more curiosity than she would have thought she had. She had seen pictures, of course, not that she was specifically looking into it, but like the old saying went, "Look at any topic on the extranet, and eventually you will find porn. But she knew enough about it to know that the horrific scarring encircling the shoulder joints was not a standard.

"Spirits preserve us, that is some bad scarring." Mark shruged.

"Maybe, but that's not what I am talking about. Look." He took the fingers of his left hand, and pulled some of the skin overlapping the scars back gently. He worked carefully for a minute, until he had ease a large flap of skin back and exposed the metal locking collar that held the arm in place.

"See, my arm is not real, so technically, you have not been touched by anything more than a fancy metal pole." Flux could not think of anything to say, and just nodded briefly. HE folded the skin back down, adjusted it slightly, and then put the soft suit shirt back on.

"What happened?" She asked. "Did you get that when you served in the Alliance?" He looked up, startled, having forgotten that he had told her about that.

"What?... oh, no, way before that. Was before I left Earth, was an accident of work. Burned off my arms and legs, so they gave me new ones." He looked away, as a peculiar thought hit him. "You know, it's funny, but if that damned coil hadn't all but killed me, I would have been on Earth when the Reapers landed, and would have been too scared to do anything but die. And now here I am in the express lane rushing to it. Oh well, that's life for you." He looked back at Flux, snapping out of his reverie, and he was happy to note she looked better. "Anyway, my scars can't be as bad as a lot of what you have seen, with your years with the Cabal and then your time with this group, yeah?"

"We've lost our share of people, for sure, but those that get hit bad usually don't tend to make it back. At least, not as people. Not to many wounded anymore." Mark clapped his hands together, sensing the need for a subject change.

"Alright then, do you have any other duties here? Cool, then, would you care to show me around? I missed the tour on account of the little hostage situation." He clipped the discarded pieces of armor together into a manageable bundle, and lifted it, at the same time taking a gamble and offering his arm to Flux. She was a nice girl, and she was fairly relaxed, for a Turian. To his surprise, she was familiar with the gesture, and after a brief hesitance, took the offered arm, and led him off to show him the ship.

(...)

Despite what the romanticized portrayal that was often depicted in novels and brochures, space travel was boring. Such vast distances needed to be covered that even with Relays and FTL travel, it still took a long time to get anywhere worth going. This meant a lot of down time between deployments. It was both a good and a bad thing, good because it gave plenty of time for the soldiers to repair and maintain their gear, bad because not being a typical unit, and having such a large background, the boredom could lead to conflict.

It was the day after his incarceration, and Mark was in high spirits, having rested well, and finding that his crew acclimated to the ship without incident. He was right in thinking they would only need 4 beds, as Teal was dossing with Snow, and Rae with Jericho. He had had Flux take him by the officers quarters to see the Major, so he could explain their particular duty restrictions, which weren't difficult, just needed to be know. Really, it broke down to just to Raeka. She could not be deployed with Asari, save Tealsa, and even then only with Mark, Jericho, or Snow around to keep her on track, just in case. In fact, she could only be used as long a Mark, Jericho, or Snow was with her, such was her special brand of crazy. Mark did not need to assertion that Jericho did not socialize with Asari, as he could work fine with them, he just preferred not to. The Major understood, once the problem was explained, and told Mark that she would likely be paired with Jericho most times, as they had a good combination of skills together.

So now Mark sat on his bunk, a requisitioned table set up in front of him, where Snow's Hornet was sitting on the table, broken down into pieces and spread around, as he worked it over with a set of tools, installing the upgrades he had removed from her Shuriken. Tealsa's Talon lay on his pillow, waiting for him to finish so he could do the same to it. He paused, his head pounding. Ever since he had awoken in the Brig, he had been slowly getting a headache, he had just been to distracted to figure out why. He pieced the casing back on over the newly installed stabilizer, and out it down as someone called rudely to him.

Hey, human." Mark looked up slowly to see a Turian flanked by a human with a face tattoo, and a male Quarian. A display inside his vision told him the voice print matched that who had cried "Phantom" when they had arrived. Good, one less thing to take care of later.

"Hey there. You're the asshole who tried to get us lynched right out of the gate." The angered look on the others face said he had been going to say something to that effect.

"Yeah, and you're the worthless crap that thinks he can get off of threaten our leader, and just get off with a short stint in the hole. But we have been talking, and the vast majority of us feel that is far short of satisfactory. So you are going to stand up, and I am going to whop the shit out of you." Mark cocked an eyebrow at the brash Turian.

"Oh, that's what's going to happen, eh?" Mark had to suppress a laugh, and he had a feeling that it showed on his face. "Bugger off, kid, before you get hurt." Mark turned back to his work, starting to tweak the alignment in the heat sink.

Okay, you don't seem to understand. This is going to happen, my buddies here will hold you up, if need be." Mark paused in his work, pinching his nose between the eyes, waiting through a particular dense pulse of head pain.

"I suggest you don't push this one, Jarro." Sileen said, laying on the back on the bunk next to Mark, at the top end of the table. The young Turian bit back his retort. He had not spoken to Sileen yet, but he was familiar with her rank, which outclassed his by more than a rank, and the years of military discipline took over.

"With all due respect ma'am, it needs to be done. You know that."

"I suppose you are correct." She turned to Mark. "He's got a point. It's actually a pretty good way to equitably settle this. I tell you what, Mark, I will even officiate, set the terms, no hard feelings. Suit?"

"Works for me." The Turian said. Mark sat, pinching his eyes still, then sighed. "Has this little slope apologized to Snow?" Sileen pushed herself up into a sitting position, and looked at him quizzically, but he did not open his eyes, so she looked over to Jarro. She could see that he hadn't.

"No."

"Alright. Then when I win, he apologizes to Snow, sincerely, and then forgets all this bullshit, Ja? And if I have a stroke and die, he can name his terms." Mark finally took his hands away, and looked at Sileen. "You sure about this, Sil? I won't get in trouble for hurting him?"

Nah, you'll be fine, just no permanent damage, so he can still pull light duty. Sparring only, so no heavy disablers."

"Dunno, still seems mean. Let me at least give him a handicap." He looked over at JArro, who was staring incredulously at him at this point. He had sparred with other humans on multiple occasions during his service on the _Glory_, and while they were scrappy, pound for pound they weren't that impressive in hand to hand. "Tell you what, slope, Two free punches, if you can knock me out of the fight with 'em, we'll call it." Mark kept calling him slope, because it was a general, non-descript slur meaning "alien," because he felt the Turian lacked basic courtesy , firstly for not apologizing for his error, and secondly for trying to intimidate him with his buddies. He would use his name when he deserved the recognition that came with it.

"If you insist." He replied, his confidence at his odds overpowering his caution at the strange discussion between the human and the Capitan. Sileen moved off the bed.

"Alright, all you," she said, moving to the open part of the deck, as she had seen most of those not sleeping were watching, many having sponsored it out of a sense of anger, or boredom. "We got a good old fashioned fight going down, handicap of 2 hits to Jarro, clear some space." A ring of spectators formed along the path through the bay, where the two combatants stood across from each other.

"Mark, what the hell are you doing? I thought were better than this." Snow called down from her top bunk, where she sat with Tealsa, who was watching curiously. He turned to look at her.

"Hey! Don't blame me, this little boy is insisting. I tried to keep out of it, ask Sil." Snow looked to Sileen, who nodded, and Snow sighed loudly. "Whatever." The ring around the fighters finished coalescing, and Sileen stood between the two.

"So, we are clear on the rules. No weapons other than fists and feet, two punches to Jarro at the start. Mark wins, Jarro apologizes to Snow, and the matter is forgotten, Jarro wins, he names his terms. Deal?" Both parties agreed. "Alright," She stepped to a spot in the ring of onlookers. "Go!"

Jarro darted in quick, not trusting the handicap as not being a trick, and slugged Mark jaw with a heavy jab. Mark reeled under the force of the blow, staggering to the left a few steps before regaining his balance. He rubbed his jaw briefly, then moved back into position.

"That's one." The Turian, braced to counter the retaliation, was wary, but closed after a few seconds of Mark not moving. He delivered another heavy blow, this time to the pit of the stomach, leaving Mark huddled over and coughing. "*cough* tha... *cough* that's two." The Turian moved to deliver a follow up, and Mark deflected it with the back of his arm, before snapping his other fist forward, knocking the Turian's head backward. He then delivered one to the his middle, doubling him over, before sweeping his legs out from under him, and slamming him to the ground. The dazed soldier did not try and rise. Mark had been careful not to use more force than necessary, and was confident the Turian would shake it off.

"We have a winner!" Sileen called, and the crowd began to break up, grumbling, hoping for more of a fight. Mark bent down over the Turian, and offered him his hand.

"Oh, come on, don't be a bitch, no hard feeling, you promised." The Turian conceided, and accepted the had. He wasn;t such a bad fellow, once his temper cooled. He apologized to Snow shortly after, all was forgive, and the first round that night was on him.

(...)

Rather than an isolated event, the sparring match was actually a quite regular event aboard the ship. Mark had not participated, citing a special augmentation that made him an unfair competitor, and continued to press the fact that he was forced into the first bout, despite his protests. But he spent a majority of his time on the maintenance deck, or working on the engines. He had discovered the following day what was causing his headaches. It semmed that when the Mass Effect drive core was mated to the engine cones, fittings in the couplers were the wrong size, causing them to rattle with a subsonic vibration that was causing one of his pickups to be constantly active, causing the pain. So he got in touch with the current head engineer, a colorful Quarian named Kaasan, and got her fixed right up, then spent the next three full days doing a complete overhaul of all the no active engine systems. Good fun.

On the morning 3 days before projected landfall, Mark heading back from the engine room, passing through the cargo spaces where he had to return some equipment to. Coming back to the final storage room with the lift up to the crew deck, he spied a woman sitting on a waist high container.

She was wearing the her full armor from the waist down, Boot, shin guards, greaves, and waist armor. From the waist up, she wore just a simple white tank top, showing off the full sleeve of tattoos on her right arm of winding green thorny vines, with a purple, red and white rose on the shoulder, crook of the elbow, and inside wrist respectively. On her left shoulder and bicep was a blue box with some white squares in it, the words "Bigger on" and "The Inside" printed underneath it in two lines. There we also some lines printed on the inside of her left forearm, but in the dim light, the type was too small. She had black hair tied up at the back of her head, and a strip of bangs that hung down the right side of her face over her brilliant emerald eyes.

"No way, Vick, that you?" The woman took a long pull on her cigarette, tapping the ash out into a little vacuum pack she had clipped to her belt, so that she let little to no ash in the ship.

"Yeah." She said, almost as a sigh.

"No shit." Mark grinned. "How'd you end up on this ship? She took another drag.

"Well, after you bailed, I got promoted to fill your slot. After that, we got deployed against the Collectors. Not long in, the L.T. got hit, and I got field promoted. When it was over, it was made permanent, and I got my own command, called us the "Razordolls." I won't detail it, you can look it up. Not long until I made Capitan, and then the Reaper War started. Next thing you know, busted back to Loot for some petty war crimes, The passed around like an Asari on fleet week, finally fell here, when no one else wanted me." Her voice was dull and flat, not at all the happy, hopeful voice he remembered from boot camp.

"You okay, sweetie?" The girl finished her cigarette, deposited the butt in her belt pouch, drew another, and lit it as she thought about it.

"Probably not." She stood. "I' going to sack in for the night. Look me up later if you feel like it." She turned to leave, and Mark clucked.

"Oi, Vicky, you don't get away that easy. Get your ass over here." She paused, turned, and found her old Sergeant giving her a hug. She returned it after a few seconds.

"It's good to see you again, regardless of the circumstances. Goodnight." He let her go, and she took the lift up without a backward glance. Mark had already patched into the extranet, and had taken her seat, bringing up us query for the term "Razordoll." It took a few minutes, but he finally managed to find a proper description.

The "Razordolls" were a platoon of Alliance marines, formed under one Lieutenant Victoria "Razordoll" Caverns. She earned her name back during the Geth conflicts, her first, and last deployment as a Sergeant. Her Lieutenant got hit in the beginning of the siege, and cut off, she managed to hold for 3 days, occasionally relying upon the straight razor she carried, triggering ambushes and other guerilla tactics. When reinforcements finally managed to push through, they found a horror show of Geth parts strewn about in a tableau of violence. (Mark smirked as he read this, remembering teaching her about scare tactics. She was such an enthusiastic soldier.) So, she walked away from that, a fresh promotion, and a cadre of loyal soldiers calling themselves the "Razordolls," and over the next couple of years, earned a good reputation and string of commendations with their unique brand of irregular warfare in various theaters against slavers, pirates, and even Collectors near the start of the Reaper conflict.

But, it changed, once the Reapers landed. It was one of the first contacts, on a backwater planet, in a city called New Palestine. Held by the Reapers, they apparently offered to allow the besieged population sanctuary if they surrendered. The officer in command gave the order, but Victoria belayed that, assaulting and subduing her superior. The official report filed by the Major in charge of the platoon stated this was due to her pronounced Xenophobia, leading to a staunch refusal to lose face to and alien race. (Mark knew this to be crap, because while Vicky, with her rural background, and constant exposure to slavers in her early life, was a tad racist, she was aware of this fault, and tried to compensate for it.)

4 days they held out against a full on Reaper siege, made mostly of husks and cannibals under Victoria's command, until finally some Evac ships were scraped together and they were lifted out. Conflicting reports from Civilians and the surviving troopers, both Razordoll and not, painted how well Vicky held the troops up, fighting the last 2 days with her right arm out of commission from wounds received, and even personally extracted the commanding Major for evav. The final casualty numbers for the attack came in at 80 of the Company of 350 soldiers making it out (25 of whom were Razordolls themselves), and roughly 80% of the Civilian population they were charged to protect. Vicky was charged, demoted, and personally placed back in service by some top brass, citing the need for experience soldiers at this junket was greater that the need to execute one for striking a superior officer.

So her unit was disbanded, and she was left to rot in regular ranks, passed around by officers that didn;t want her. She was one of the first major morale issues of the war, as some viewed her as a hero, especially those who knew that any prisoner that was taken by the Reapers, padded their lines not long after. But, a majority saw her as a war criminal, and there had even been a number of attempts on her life as she was passed from unit to unit. Final rumors placed that she had finally been moved to some crazy Spec ops group, but nothing was confirmed.

At the bottom of the article, there was a little picture. A little brown sack doll, with "x's" stitched into its eyes, smiling, it's arms replace by cracked open straight razors. It had a caption explaining it.

"As word spread among the ranks, and the name "Razor Doll" swept through the galaxy, those who supported Miss Caverns began to support this unofficial ensignia, often made into patches and worn with fatigues, or by civilians."

Underneath this, was a picture of a cracked open, "V" shaped straight razor, the words "The Razordolls" embossed on the blade, captioned "The official insignia of the Razordolls."

Mark killed the feed, and checked the time. He'd been sitting, reading, for more than an hour, and he was due back to the engines in 6. HE rose, feeling bad for his old protégé. Poor little Vick, she would have made a cracking general, if not for this bullshit. And now, with this mark, she would never get above her current grade. All cause some asshole was too stupid to realize what a husk really was. Well, Mark would do his best to keep his eye on her now, he knew her mettle, and would be proud to have her at his back. He hit his bunk, not surprised to see multiple people still up, triggered his internal alarm, and passed out.

End 7.

Hope you enjoyed, lot of character work here, I know, sorry. Whole thing was just about getting to Vicky, really, so some action in the next one, finally on the surface of the moon's front lines.


	8. Menae

**Mass Effect : Extinction**

_**Warring time. Some good old deployments, characters in action, a briefing, unexpected conflicts, and maybe even a campout.**_

**8: Menae**

Mark sprinted flat-out like a poor bastard, his armored boots sending spurts of dust into the thin air as he tore off across the inner surface of a crater, preying it didn't hold a morning glory. He made a literal mental note to ask if those existed on this moon, and dove sideways as he heard a high, crunchy sizzling sound behind him. He hit, bounced a little in the lower gravity, and rolled upright, 15 meters to the side of the twin beams of blue, burning energy that made black glass furrows in the dust as they swept.

"Any time you would want to distract this thing would be just super!" He yelled over his team push as he turned and fired a standard Overload at the stilted monster floating after him, too little less than no effect.

"Just keep hitting it with your Overload, once it's barriers drop, we'll hit it with the fire and heavy biotics." Victoria's voice came over, flat as it always was now.

"Oh, easy for you to say!" He said, diving the opposite way as a second pair beams etched lines in the dust. "You don't have a... a... a whatever the fuck this is trying to eat you while all your compatriot do piss all to help." He flung another Overload, and watched the barrier absorb it.

(12 hours earlier)

The bunkroom was a hive of nervous energy, save in the newcomers, who didn't know what was going on. Every 5 to 10 minutes, the intercom would boom out a quartet of names, and they would move up into officer territory. They had transitioned into Palavin's system, and now assignments were going out. All heads turned as another burp of static washed through the tinny speakers.

"Dietrich, Kerrick, Caverns, Orcahe, Cabin 8." Mark rose, and followed Victoria towards the far side of the bay, when the speaker came back to life.

"Frost, Jeleed, Narrerner, D'noonie, Cabin 6." Mark turned back and grinned at Snow. He was glad, all of his people would be working with another of their group. Rae and Jericho, himself and Sileen, and now Snow and Teal. Good, he felt more confident knowing his people were looking after one another. Mark stood at the door until both groups had passed beyond, his years of walking drag unconsciously controlling his action. He followed Sileen, Victoria, and to his pleasant surprise, Flux, into a room marked with a brass number 8 affixed to the frame. A skeletal petty officer sat behind a small metal desk, looking at the fixed terminal. He nodded as Mark stepped in, and sealed the door behind him.

"For those who are new, I will explain." He started without preamble. "These order are top secret, and to be shared with no one outside this office. We go up against an enemy which not only can kill us, but as far as we are aware, can take our very minds. As such, no more than the minimum of what is necessary to be known about each operation is given to each soldier before a deployment, as what you do not know, you cannot divulge. Are we understood?" Unintentionally, all four snapped a crisp "Sir!" as an affirmation in unison.

"Good." He continued, unemotionally. "You are being deployed an area several klicks to the flank of the main spearhead of the offensive on the surface, and approximately 2 klicks forward into zone red." He worked his long, spindly fingers over the holographic control surface on his desk, and a flat plane projection appeared in the air. It showed a colored map, a wavy, occasionally jagged line, one side blue, one red, depicting the current line separating friendly and enemy occupied ground. Supply depots, outposts, and estimated enemy concentrations were all displayed.

"You will be dropped here, and make your way to this instillation." An "X" appeared on the map, and a dotted line drew itself to a square labeled with a numbered tag. "Inside of this instillation is a old, prototype arc-type generator. You are tasked to infiltrate this facility, hold it, and use the generator to fire off a pulse. We are hoping this pulse will weaken, or outright disable the reapers located here." A small blue circle expanded from the square, and overlapped 3 destroyer class reaper symbols a few clicks distant to the right flank of the building.

"This objective is of paramount importance, and teams India, Gulf, and Tours will be in contact, stirring up trouble, to try and ease your burden. All details will be forwarded in your orders packed to your Omni tools, any questions?"

"Sir!" Mark said, raising a hand slight. The officer nodded.

"My particular skills make me vulnerable to electric based weaponry to the point where I can be disabled or outright killed if a sufficiently tuned pulse were to engulf me. I have not tested the extent of the effect, but it is one of concern to me."

"Your handicap is known, but the Turian R&D department is confident that, with the adjustments that are to be made to the generator prior to detonation, the pulse should only effect Reaper tech, with a 89% success ratio.

"All good then, sir."

"Very well, any others. Good. Now we have determined that the best chances of this succeeding are to prepare a little of everything, and we have chosen, based on your combat roles specified, that your combination of skills and experience provide the a favorable balance. Projections are that the balance of the forces you are likely to encounter are going to be Husks and Cannibals, with Marauders in decent concentration, and a possibility of heavy support by Ravagers. Based on the information presented, do you see any problem with two combat role, one tech, and one biotic?" All gave an affirmative. "Then the last order of business will be that of determining the squad leader. Caverns and Orcahe are both of sufficient experience, and both offer advantages. Orcahe because of her familiarity with the area, even in passing, and Caverns due to her experience with the enemies.

Victoria stared straight ahead, inwardly not comfortable with being commanded by an alien, while at the same time bitter about feeling the twinge of racism. Mark trusted her, and that was more than enough for her rational mind, but canalization is never rational.

"I have no issues with serving under Lieutenant Caverns, Sir." Sileen said. Close to the same thing had gone through Sileen's head, save her years of actively hating humans.

"Either way suits me." Mark said with a shrug.

"With respect to their combat records, either choice is okay for me." Flux added, though personally she would have preferred the leadership of her own race, as it was all she was familiar with. She had no idea that both the others were close to her only human friend.

"Very well, Lieutenant Chambers will lead. Gear up and prepare for drop. One hour. Dismissed." They all turned and left, Vick on point, Sil next, Flux, then finally Mark. He nudged Flux softly with his shoulder as they moved through the hall.

"Stick with us kid, and you'll be fine. Vick here is a pro, and Sileen knows her stuff too. This will be a cake walk.

(...)

They moved quickly to the crowded armory, which was arranged like a locker room, women on one side, men on the other, with two rows and benches in between full, armor rated lockers. A steel divider cut through the middle of the room, to keep the genders reasonably seperated. In the corners of the each row were movable blinders, so a shy trooper might hide themselves from view while changing. Such a concession would not have been made on an average military ship, but with the variety of species in the ship, it was appreciated to have place where one could change without a gaggle of onlookers observing an unfamiliar anatomy.

As both chambers were in use, and a queue was formed outside of it, Mark found it funny, as he had seen that the one in the female side of the room as he entered was not in use, showing that males of the other species were more shy than the females, as it was in his own. Not that all males were shy, as a large, black fringed Krogan was proudly displaying, as Mark moved to his locker and began to get changed himself. He emerged 10 minutes later, carrying his helmet, Rifle slotted on his back and pistol gripped to it's hard point, having double checked that all hi kit was still slotted into is places. Vick stood waiting, cigarette half smoked, her helmet clipped to a hook in her officers armor. She gave him a semi interested huff.

"Surprised you're still sporting that suit. Figured you would have upgraded once you bailed." He shrugged.

"You know me, Vick, I got used to it, but as far as insides go, I kept it current as can be. I like yours, save I thought you were smart enough to avoid those pips on your shoulders. Thought I taught you better than that." Now she shrugged.

"You tried, but I had aspirations back then." Her voice was flat, dead, defeated. It pissed Mark off. He slid an arm around her armored shoulders and squeezed slightly.

"I know, dear. But hey, when all this is over, we will either all be dead, or we will all be heroes." Flux emerged, her lighter gauge armor glittering black with white highlights, with lighter armor plating compensated with a heavier shield generator to supplement her barriers. She had a Viper sniper rifle clipped to her back, and a Katana shotgun for close up work.

"Meet you in the bay." Vick said, depositing her cigarette and striking another and walking out. Flux watched her curiously.

"Is she alright?" The Turian asked.

"In her own way, yeah. Just some mild racism. But no worries, she's aware of it, and fights it best she can.

"So you do know her. I have never worked with any of you, so I am a little nervous."

"Pfft, don't worry about it, Flux. Lieutenant Caverns, I taught her everything I know, back when she was placed under me after she finished Basic. Sure, she got in a bit of trouble, but I can tell she is still one of the best soldiers I have ever seen. Know how?" The Turian shook her head. "Because, did you see that insignia she had on her left shoulder plate, looked like a letter V? Well, that's the insignia of her old unit, got dismantled after a bunch died in a botched mission and some political crap storm killed her chance to rise, and she still wears it, despite it being a cause of contention among other human. I know you know what that means.

"Of course I do. She honors those who fell by her side. Rather than hideaway in shame, she bears the memory of her people, regardless of the cost to her."

"Damn straight. And if you still aren't sufficiently calmed, I am sure you will find Sileen's qualifications more than enough." Flux shifted a little.

"Well, I don't rightly know. I don't recognize the name, and her tattooing doesn't match any pattern I have seen. Although, at the risk of offending, I am relieve to be serving with one of my race." Mark looked away a bit, before turning back.

"I don't see anything wrong with that, at least with that, you have an idea of what you are dealing with. I don't feel that it is a bad thing to desire the familiar. But, and granted that I am no specialist on the Turian Military Hierarchy, I think Sil is from a legion with fairly high esteem. Here she is now, you tell me."

Sileen eyed Mark curiously as Flux turned, looked at her, had her eyes seem to bulge, and pop into a rigid salute out of pure military instinct at the sight of her.

"Alrighty, then. I would say that she did have a bit of prestige." Sileen, born of the strict militarization as well, returned the salute almost absently, noting that the smaller female was of the Cabals. She wondered briefly if she had a problem with this, but her time spent amongst her Asari team had softened canalized prejudice against the biotics. Flux turned incredulously to the human.

"A bit of prestige? A Capitan of one of our most celebrated frontline assault legions has considerably more than a "bit" of prestige.

"At ease, Cabalim." Sileen said softly. "I haven't been in the Armiger for many years now. Old rank doesn't apply, I'm just here to kill some Reapers." She placed her hand on the, now that they were close together, Mark could see, younger Turian's shoulder. "I am no more deserving of respect than this..." she gestured at Mark, " ...pink monkey anymore." Mark feigned offence, and Flux looked worried.

"Oi, ouch, Sil." He caught the look on Flux's face, and wiped his face. "Oops, sorry, Flux, forgot. Sileen, Flux here isn't accustom to my rather informal ways." She looked at him like he was stupid, her hand still resting on Flux's shoulder.

"Well, of course she wouldn't be. Most of the Cabalim don't get a chance to interact with many outside their own ranks." She caught enough of what had happened in Marks expression and the stiffness in her race mate to gleam an idea that this had been learned already. She sighed. "You made an ass out of yourself already, didn't you?" He got slightly defensive.

"No more so than usual." Sileen looked down and shook her head.

"Spirits preserve us." She muttered under her breath.

"You know, Sil, if your reaction wasn't perfectly justified, I might consider being offended.

"With you, Mark, exasperation is always jsutified." She said, smiling.

"To true, let's scoot, the Loot is waiting for us in the drop bay.

(6 hours ago)

The shuttles departed almost as the ship achieved orbit around the decimated moon. As the 4 person team stepped foot on the dusty surface, they could see the crescent of the burning planet hanging above them. Sileen swore softly as she looked at it, the little shapes of Reapers showing as they passed by the planet, their red beams knifing out after Turian craft. Flux, who had seen it before, back in the first days of contact, said nothing.

Closer at hand, damaged prefab building stood in a rough perimeter, equipment and wires were strewn about in all directions, and bodies were laying off to one corner, covered in orange foil sheets. This outpost was several klicks back of the frontline, as the air corridor to the objective was closed off due to heavy anti air resistance within several klicks of the current, ever shifting front line. They were loaded into a Mako ATV, and began a bumpy, grueling trip that lasted close to 5 hours, happy to dismount at the last outpost outside of zone red.

"We are looking for a ... Capitan Krag." Vicktoria said as she struck a cigarette and took a puff, glad to be out of the bouncing carrier. The foursome moved into the high walled area, looking around at the flurry of moving troops hustling about. 4 sentry towers, easily 30 feet high we placed along the far wall facing the contested zone, powerful twin cannoned turrets manned by sentries. As expected, it seemed the majority of the troops stationed here were Turian, but a large number of Krogan, Vorcha, and human soldiers could be seen as well. This was the readiest symbol of how truly galactic this conflict really was.

"Never thought I would live to see Krogan on out most secret military defense instillation, much less peacefully." Sileen muttered, mostly to herself.

'Well, times change, don't they?" A gruff voice responded form an active holo-map placed below one of the one walled shacks set about. The speaker was a large Krogan Battlemaster, her black and orange armor pitted, and in one place burned, his green brow ridge plate scarred in more places than not. He had a cigar clamped in the corner of his mouth as he eyed the group. "The hell are you?"

"Lima team, here for an assault into zone red. We are looking for Capitan Krag." The Krogan grunted.

"You're the gear heads they sent then. Good. Boys are getting restless. The geeks haven't made a significant push in a couple of days now." The two humans and Turian's stood and stared at him. "What?" He growled. The it dawned on him. "Oh. Urdnot Krag. Me." HE hooked a thumb at his own massive chest.

"Good to know you, Capitan. What's the plan?" Victoria deposited her butt, drew another, and lit it. The Krogan paused her with a raised hand. He bit down on the stub of his cigar, and spit the remains onto the ground, pulling aout another.

"Give us a light, will you. Lost my lighter, and none of these damned hatchet heads carry. Been lighting off my own butts for the past three days." Victoria lit his cigar, and he breathed deep, releasing a literal cloud of smoke in a contented sigh. "Ah, thanks..." He looked at Vick's shoulders, " ... Lieutenant." He caught sight of the insignia she had mounted under the shoulder pips, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he thought. "That patch... you one of the Razordolls, yeah?" Victoria eyed the giant reptilian alien warily.

"I am the Razordoll." The Krogan grunted in respect.

"Hmmp. Good work, human. I worked with some of your men back on Omega. Good group, for humans." He turned from her, having delivered the compliment, he confidence in the team of eggheads increased. He motioned at the map as he spoke.

"What we plan to do, is have me and my group move in here, striking at the east end of the facility, hopefully drawing the majority of the forces out to us. Once out offensive is underway, you are going to strike at the west end, mop up best you can, then open up on their rear flank, hopefully creating enough confusion to let us thin them down enough for us to push through and regroup inside. Out in the thick of the area, we have the other groups from your battalion, as well as a platoon of the hatchet heads, stirring the pot, trying to tie up reinforcements." He turned back to the 4 spec ops. "Questions?" Flux raised he hand tenitivly, and Krag inclined his head to signal her to speak.

"What's are hatchet heads?" He continued to look at her like she said something odd.

"Umm... you are." He made motion indicating the fringe on the back of the male Turians head. Flux got it suddenly, and Sileen placed a hand on her shoulder. The Krogan looked curiously at them, until he finally he realized what the reaction was about.

"Oh, no offense." He turned and walked away, calling back over his shoulder. "Get your shit in order, we move in 10."

Sileen leaned over to Flux.

"Leave it, they have earned their bitterness.

(10 Minutes ago)

Something was off as soon as Krag signaled the attack. There was the roar of the wave Reapers engaged, and they waited the predetermined amount of time. They closed in, and spotted sentries patrolling the roof. Suddenly, Krag's voice cut over their radio's.

"Arrgh! Damn it, Intel was off. There are too damn many at our end, we are falling back and will try an hold them. Do what you can, but bug out for a regroup if it gets too heavy. Calling in India for support." The comm cut out, just as a high pitched, warbling scream rang out from the top of the building.

"Run." Vick said, dashing away, and the other 3 followed suit, as a giant silver thing dropped from the roof, smashing their last position. Mark, of course, being more prone to reaction than reasoned thought in combat, smacked it with an Overload, focusing its attention solely on him. It screamed it's odd cry again, and launched itself forward of long, stilted legs, covering far more distance than Mark was comfortable with. So he tore off south as fast as he could, the thing folding it's legs up and gliding after him in pursuit. He vaulted what he thought was a low bump.

"Oh Shiiittt." He cried as he tumbled down the slope of the rim of a rather large crater, sliding several meters when he hit the floor of the crater. He rose quickly, sprinting off as the metal beast slammed down again where he had fallen, stabbing wildly around with its pointed legs. It stood after discovering it's prey escaped, eye's glowing as it's beam projectors spun up, and lanced out with twin beams, sweeping them over Mark. Mark felt and heard the impact, turning as his shields burst, stabbing out with an Energy Drain even as he armor got burned, restoring just enough shielding to keep the energy from burning through. He turned again and ran away, now keyed to the sound of the attack, and having noticed that once it started, the beam did not vary horizontally.

He dodged the next two swaths, firing off Overloads and insults as his comrades.

(Present)

Victoria watched the Praetorian chase after Mark, pausing at the lip of the crater to shoulder her Falcon, and shot a 20mm grenade across the rear barriers of the hulking Collector beast. It paid no attention as it settled on its back legs, letting it's lower jaw sink.

"Down!" She called on the team pushed, and Mark hit the dust just before a form came hurtling over his head bouncing into the dust. The launched thing unfurled, a Husk standing and running at Mark. Flux, saving her Biotics, brought up her Viper and clipped the Husk down.

"You can charge?" She asked the Biotic, and she signaled the affirmative. Looking down at the Praetorian, she saw it begin to vomit up a large wave of Husks and Abominations, which picked themselves up and charged at Mark, who had shouldered his own rifle and was picking them off as fast as he Saber would fire. "Dig in up here, try and pick off the red ones first. You see anything glowing with orange light or fire, it takes priority. Once the Barriers on the big guy drop, hit it with all the biotics you can muster, and join us on the floor." She turned to the other Turian. "Go cover his ass while I whittle on the barriers. Keep away from the red ones, they explode when they die." She broadcast the last over the team push, so Mark could hear as well.

"Oh, that is just all kinds of magical! I said get off me, you damned wire head." Sileen slotted her rifle, and jumped over the short wall of dirt, triggered her jump jets, and rocketed down to where Mark was throwing the broken body of a Husk away from him, before drawing his pistol and wasting 4 others. Sileen landed in the midst of the growing horde, washing the nearest in flame and knocking them back, both Omni blades out and digging gouges out of the Husks. Flux was down on her belly, picking off Abominations as fast as she could sight them.

Victoria mounted the rise, shouldered her rifle, and started a controlled slide down the craters slope, firing grenades as she went, splashing the Praetorian's barrier but still not dropping it. She managed to reload her thermal clip and fire off a second volley before she reached the floor, and she finally saw the barrier burst in an wave of purple light. She reloaded it and stowed it, drawing instead her Crusader shotgun, and ran at the left flank of the horde of Husks, priming an incendiary grenade, lobbing it overhand, where it burst right over the beast, lighting it up and weakening it's armor. She was about to yell, but had to pause as an enormous explosion erupted in the center of the horde as Flux killed a Possessed Abomination.

"Barriers are down, hit it will all you have!" She called, gunning down a pair of Husks as she tried to push closer to the still vomiting beast. There was a rushing air sound, and the Praetorian flashed with blue fire, mixing with the red. There followed the sound of a whip crack, followed by a decompression pop and thundering boom as the combined biotic attacks of the Dark Channel and Biotic charge collected and cascaded in an explosion sufficient in force to roll the Praetorian over, where Mark's Incinerate slammed into its exposed belly, lighting it from both sides. Victoria, finally close enough, due to the force of the explosion pushing the Husk about, cleared a few left standing behind the now present Flux with a triple blast of her shotgun. She tucked it down, triggering her wrist mounted flamer, slathering the liquid fire on the twitching thing, and splashing about to hit some of the remaining Husks. With another of its high pitched squeals, the Praetorian curled upon itself like a dead spider, before beginning to melt away in blue fire.

The four regrouped on Victoria, each reloading what weapons they needed it. Victoria triggered her radio to Krag's, and spoke. "Lima to Capitan Krag. Be advised, Collectors are supplementing Reaper forces, and hold out objective. They are insectoid with a preference for energy weapons, and are bolstered by large, humonoid tanks, stilt legged heavy platforms, and Red Husk that explode upon death."

"Thanks for the heads up, Lima. We're holding our on here, and India says it's on the way. See what you can do, we'll try and draw off what we can."

"Appreciated, Lima out." She killed the feed and turned to address her team when another shriek echoed across the crater, followed by another. They all turned to see two more of the Praetorians standing at the lip of the crater, along with several dozen of the insect like Collectors. Wings buzzed as they leap into, and landed gently in the crater. "Cover." Vicky yelled, pointing in the direction of some ancient rocks that were not blasted free of the craters rim when the impact happened. While the majority of the floor of the crater was prairie smooth, these micro rock formations dotted the base of the slope in places. She dashed, slightly behind her charges, diving, and tucking into a roll behind one of the larger rocks just as the Collectors began to open fire. Lucky for the defenders, their previous fight had taken them to the opposite side of the depression from where their antagonists were pouring, giving them several hundred meters of killing ground, which they used. Waves of Collectors, Husks, and Cannibals fell to the raking fire, but the sheer weight of numbers would eventually claim them.

"Well, think it's pretty clear now they had an idea someone might be making a push at this building, yeah?" Mark said, emptying his Saber, then tossing out his little turret into the thick of them. It popped open, already hosing enemies with its flamethrower.

"Seems that way." Sileen answered, cutting a Cannibal in half with a burst of Phaeston fire. Flux channeled her Biotics into a concentrated orb, and shot it off, where it connected with the head of the attackers, detonating in a massive cloud of rainbow smoke.

"That was impressive." Mark said, his weapon again dry.

"Thanks." Flux said, picking off the injured enemies Victoria was peppering grouped targets with her Flacon, the grenades working better on the clustered targets. She tossed another incendiary grenade, but the Collector troopers simply trod over their fallen comrades. She took a brief survey of the opposition, seeing a majority of those closest to their position were Collector troopers and husks, the mid distance was coated with Cannibals, stopped to scavenge the dead, the large, slow Scions were still back at the base of the opposite slope. The Praetorians stood at the top of the slope, depositing their additional Husks into the fray. They were going to be overrun, no two ways about it, with the way the bugs were swarming. She stowed her rifle, and pulled up her Crusader, activating it's Omni blade attachment.

"Ready for close quarters, everyone. I am thinking that this is a majority of the objectives guard. If we can hold through this, we may be able to pull this off yet." Flux pulled her shotgun and flexed, surrounding herself with an Annihilation Field, the dark energy strings swirling around her. Mark and Sileen continued firing at the mass of foes, as prepped for close up work as they were going to be. Placing her back to the large rock she covered behind, she waited until she could hear the chittering of the closest bugs.

She spun out, fanning with her hand flamer, dousing the mass of Collectors with fire as she moved laterally to the next rock. Flux jumped forward into the stalled force, her biotic field lashing out and damaging the closest. She swept her arm, detonating the field, shredding the targets and pushing back more. Both their shotguns then got to work, keeping the middle lane held, occasionally using flamer and biotics when the surge

Mark and Sileen were doing their best to keep control over the bugs that crawled around the flanks, Mark quickly abandoning his Saber in the tight quarters, pulling his pistol and firing it in a near constant stream. Sileen was doing well, slapping her Cryo blasts around precisely, using her rifle doing a fait job, but the sheer number of enemies was just too much for the amount of firepower any of them could bring to bear. Their only salvation was the fact that they had their backs to a wall of sorts, and had just enough cover to prevent the Collector troopers and Cannibals from bring their guns to bear. They held another few seconds before the bulk of the horde hit their bastion and they were forced into Melee combat.

The combat was fierce and heavy. Almost before one fell, chitin shattered of head crushed, it seemed like another had claimed it's place. Flux kept her Annihilation Field active now, the staggering effect of the damaging field more useful than the brief respite the knockback brought. It at least kept the Husks off of them, allowing them to focus on the Collector troopers. Sileen was a whirling avatar of death, both her omni blades scarcely visible as they tore through enemies. Victoria was reduced to wielding her omni bladed shotgun like an axe, stabbing and slashing. Mark thought he had a respite, but the swarm had just backed away so a Collector Capitan could engage, it's hands tucked into the odd curved blades they carried. It closed and swung upward, scraping against his shields as it passed, as it stepped forward, bring the blade back downward. Mar, in no mood for this crap, reached out, catching the Capitan's hand, halting it, before boring his own free hand down as hard as he could on the bug's wrist. The wrist seemed to explode as the augmented blow landed, and still clenching the hand, brought it away, them back in laterally, burring the point of the blade in its head.

He looked over just in time to see Victoria swing, and miss as a Collector ducked under her blow, delivering a savage backhand, popping her shields, and in the same motion, brought the blade back around, burring it in her gut with a crunch of breaking armor. Mark Pulled the corpse he had by the buried blade, spinning around it, pulling it's assault rifle from its back and, one handed, aiming it at the Collector about to lop of Vick's head, confident the stabilizers in his arm could cope with the kick. He fired a short burst, then a longer as it stayed steady, taking the head off the offending trooper, and killing the one behind it. In a swift movement, Sileen swept in, slicing two more troopers, then pushing her back into the dead space between the three remaining, covered her.

Glad to not be in an evacuated environment, Victoria stabbed a Medi-gel injector into the wound, clenching her teeth as the cold foam filled her gut. She looked up, the walls of enemies still pushing in, knowing they couldn't clear these out before the Scions got in range, kill them, and then take the Praetorians. She pulled out her Falcon, trying to stand, ready to take a few more with her, but couldn't rise. She compensated by grabbing one of the fallen troopers rifle and taking shots where she could. She saw Sileen slowing, her crazy pace taking it's toll, Flux drop to a knee as she blocked a blow with her shotgun, before blasting the offender back with a weak Throw. Mark grabbed a Collector's head, then proceeded to dump electricity into until it smoked. He shook his hand as he tried to get his fingers to work again, taking a few shots with his pistol, to little effect. They couldn't hold out any...

Her thought was cut off as there was the sound of a whoosh, and a black figure appeared over her head. Balled up, it pulsed with blue energy, then snapped out spread eagle, blasting the area with a biotic blast that pushed all the enemies back about 5 meters. It landed, arms crossed, before sweeping them out again building a Biotic Sphere, buffing their armor and applying Warp damage to those enemies still it it's diameter. The entire team standing used the lull to reload their guns and spray the masses before they could recover.

"India to Lima, some party you have going." A male voice said in her helmet. She was laying on her side, the force of the first blast not missing the friendly soldiers, and she found she couldn't bear to sit back up.

"Not really, the catering sucks, and we got a bit of a roach problem." She said, surprised at her own calm voice.

"Well then, good thing we brought the bug spray." She heard a hiss, and saw twin contrails slide by against the black sky, and several seconds later the muted booms and screams of the now dead Praetorians.

(...)

Mark stumbled as a biotic attack hit him and pushed him forward. But he noticed that it also knocked all the immediate threats away, so he filed his ire for later, popping a fresh clip in his pistol as a blue dome made of hexagons blossomed around him, and he picked up an increased material density in his armor. He emptied his gun, reloaded, and did it again before the bugs recovered. He had picked up two Hydra rockets launching, and placed them on the crater lip above them, and by sound, guessed that the Praetorian's were no longer a threat. But another sound, a pop, followed by a crunch, was happening with regualr frequency, and he had no idea what it was, until her turned to check on Vick. The biotic that was assisting would vanish, then reappear with a pop, slamming a Collector with a biotic assisted punch, then vanish again, only to reappear somewhere else a second later.

"India's here." Vick called out weakly, laying on her side. As if to add punctuation to her statement, a man in a red/black heavy armor variant Mark had never seen before landed with a thud in front of Vick, before standing and raising a light machinegun. He fanned the area directly in front of him with an impressive hose of fire, a little auto launch rack firing off mini missiles at set intervals. Without a sideling look, he chucked a handful of miniaturized frag grenades into the mass before Flux, who retreated a step a as another man in blue/black armor with a large yellow lensed faceplate flexed his arm, a large Omni shield popping to life and flame, which he charged into the wall of hostiles with, lighting them on fire and pushing them back. On Mark's side, a clearly female in green/black armor similar to Alliance Combat engineer armor placed some collapsible device on the ground. It expanded, throwing out shield boost to those close to it, and spitting out a pair of thermal clips and grenades. With a sideways arm thrust, the fem tossed an arc grenade into the Collectors, finishing the writhing insects off with an odd pistol Mark had never seen before, but looked like a modified Carniflex. In three more minutes, the seven standing soldiers had managed to eliminate the remaining troopers, and got to work of the Scions, which now free to move about, proved no real challenge. A soon as the last Scion slumped to the ground, Mark took charge Lima team.

"Flux, start policing ammo and making sure these things are dead. I will help you in a second. Sil, on me." He turned, and Sileen followed, knowing her job, as she was the only trained medic on the team. The reentered the rocks, where Vicky was still slumped over, but still aware.

"I take it we won?" She said weakly.

"More or less," Mark said, gently righting her, then helping her to her feet and supporting her. "Sil's going to patch you up, then you can greet our friends." She tried to wave him off.

"No, I am fine..." Mark didn't let her wiggle.

"Vick, you can be a bitch all you want later, right now, you are getting fixed." Sileen had used a med scanner on her while she tried to argue, noted that while the puncture had gone deep, it had missed all the internal organs.

"Aright, strip her torso. The wound doesn't look to bad"

"She knows ... human?" Victoria panted, and Mark grimaced behind his helmet.

"Of course. I figured that it would be necessary to work on humans once I signed on with Mark, so I brushed up while we were on the citadel, and have been studying while on _Glory_. Plus, I had Mark store all the relevant information on his personal drive, so I have a reference if anything complicated comes up." Mark had removed his helmet and set it aside while Sileen talked, also removing Victoria's and lighting her a cigarette as he began to unclasp her armors locking plates. Buy the time she was finished, he had all the armor removed from its mounts on the soft suit. From there it was a simple matter of undoing the pressure seal up her left side, and ease her out of the bloodstained garment. He continued to hold her up as Sileen cleaned, reapplied medigel, and bandaged the wound, before injecting her with a mild stimulant. Mark helped her back into her soft suit, and mounted her armor. By the time the last locking collar was fastened back, she was back functioning capacity.

She stretched a bit, working out her new range of motion, absentmindedly flicking away her butt and striking a new one.

"Thanks." She grunted, leaning over to pick up her fallen Crusader, then clipping her helmet to her belt.. Sileen gave her a curt nod. "Let's go meet our friends." She lead them out of the rocks, Mark and Sileen following behind her, side by side, rifles at ease, where she walked to where the other 5 were waiting. Flux was eating something, moved to rise as she saw Vick, but she waved her to stay. Victoria eyed the newcomers. The biggest one was in a red heavy armor variant that she never had seen before. Most notable was the fact that the armor coverage looked to be 100%, with even the joints covered. Standing off to his side, giving off an air of impatience, was a female in light, fabric style armor, all done in black with a hood and shawl covering her head and shoulders. Clearly a biotic, as there was no hard point on the armor to mount a Kinetic Barrier generator, and the armor was close enough skin tight that there was no place to show an internally woven one. Next was a person in a blue/black set of heavy Incinerator class armor, the face plate opaque. His only aberration was that the cuffs and forearms of his armor were bulkier than standard. Finally, in the back, sitting a little further away than any other, was a female in a heavy variant of standard Alliance Combat engineer armor, done in a black/green. The only thread that visually united the foursome, was a small patch on the right breast of each, the simple "N7" designation.

"India team, I presume. Thanks for the assist." The one in the red suit nodded, but the Biotic snorted.

"More like "thanks for saving our asses."" She said, crossing her arms. Mark took an instant dislike, a uncommon thing for him, against one displaying a figure like that. The red armor shot her a sideway look, the reached out a hand.

"Any time, Ma'am. Just sorry we didn't get here a little sooner. Tom Voltaire, India lead." Victoria shook his hand.

"Caverns, Lima lead. My Engineer, Dietrich, and combat specialists, Sileen and Flux." She indicated each as she announced them.

"Good on you," Tom continued. "My group is Gordon, Defensive specialist." He pointed to the Inferno armored man, who waved enthusiastically. "The quiet one back there is out gear jockey, Emily Park." She gave a half hearted flick of the hand in recognition. "And finally, our Biotic, Cypress." She stepped forward, trying to intimidate.

"The strongest Biotic in the Alliance." She said, the pride tipping into arrogance.

"Oh, so that just leaves you behind a bunch of Turians, most of the Krogan, and all the Asari. Cheers." Mark snapped, sick of the attitude already. There was a two second pause as what he said registered in her mind before her muscles coiled like springs as she prepared to pounce. She stopped dead as Tom raised his hand to stop her. Mark guessed it was because he was nearly twice her size, rather than a respect thing.

"Shut up, Mark." Victoria said blandly, then turned back to Tom. "Alright, so what's the plan?" He tilted his head slightly.

"Still your show, Ma'am, we're just here to support your mission." Cypress snorted again, but said nothing. Victoria thought for a minute.

"Alright, then. We'll make our way back up this end of the crater, circle around and hit the facility from the point we were originally going to. You and me on point, Mark on drag, everyone else, loose march. Yeah?"

"Sounds good. Let's do it."

(...)

The march to the facility was completely uneventful, and even as the stood at the rear door, again ready to enter, they heard not a sound from within.

"Good, looks like we drew the majority of them out at the start. Okay, here is the plan. I am going to go in first, followed by Tom, followed By Sileen. Sweep and clear, then the Biotics move in, with Gordon covering them. Once we have it held down, Mark and Emily will move on the objective. Suits?" She was talking to Tom, but Cypress was clearly not satisfied, as mark Saw her flexing her hands, which served to piss Mark off even further.

"No, actually. I think I should go first, as I have no injuries currently, and this fancy suit of power armor." Tom made a sweeping gesture to himself. His hesitance before he spoke was only in trying to find a way to phrase it so as not to irritate the woman. Victoria didn;t even pause to think about it, but just answered in her blank tone.

"Makes sense. On you." He nodded, still imagining he had offended her, pulling up his Light Machine gun. Vick and Sil stacked on the sides of the door, Sileen ready to throw it open. He made a gesture, and Sileen threw the door open, Tom walking in, scanning the empty space, Sil and Vick falling in behind with a sweep, Phaeston and Crusader roving repectivly.

"Clear." The Devastator called, and the rest filled in. Mark had a floor plan from the briefing packet stored in his mind, and laid it out in his vision, with a blue line on the floor pointing the way he needed to go.

"You goods to go, Mark." Victoria asked, turing to him while Gordon and Tom watched the doors deeper into the facility. He grunted.

"Does the Pope shit in the woods?"

"Alright, get to it, call for backup if you meet anything heavy."

"Yes, Ma'am." He said it textbook perfect, but it still managed to sound sarcastic. "Righty-o, Miss Park, on me." He moved to a door, leveled his rifle, and kicked it down, sending it skidding into the next hallway. The other Engineer hesitated, raised her pistol, and followed. Vick continued addressing the others, but Mark had all his teams comms queued in his head, and listed in even though she spoke on the local push.

"Alright, Gordon, you are on biotics, take this map... and lead them up to the roof. There is another cluster of Reapers pinning down our escort. Cover them while they do as much damage as possible. Sileen, Tom, we're going to sweep and clear the rest, quick march, then march out to meet them." There were 5 "aye" or the like, and one grunt, then silence as they switched to personal comms.

"Umm, sir?" Mark turned his focus to the woman following behind him.

"What do you need, Miss Park?" He tried to sound as warm as possible, the hesitance in her voice was very vulnerable.

"What exactly are we trying to do?"

"Oh, in short, we are reconfiguring a reactor to zap some Reapers." She paused, following him quietly. He picked up her sigh, though it was not broadcast over the comms.

"I was afraid it was something like that."

"What's the issue?"

"Well, sir..." He cut her off.

"Ick, don't call me sir. Haven't been a sir in years and years. Call me Mark." He said it in a way that tried to sound unoffended and merely playful.

"Very well, Mark. But I never got a chance to tell your commander. I am not really a techy type Engineer." She sounded ashamed. He paused, then turned to look at her, eyebrow raised under his helmet.

"Oh, no?" She managed to look embarrassed in full armor. "Then what time are you?"

"I am more the... "Make stuff go boom," engineer." She said, settling on it as the easiest explination.

"Miss Park..." She cut him off here.

"Emily, please."

Emily, what combat specialization do you think I am?"

"Soldier." She said, like this was obvious.

"Really? That's sweet of you, thanks." She conveyed puzzled through a full face helm too.

"Well, your commander has you escorting me, and your load out geared toward heavy combat." He nodded.

"A solid conclusion, but wrong. No worries, I have more engineering in my left hand, literally and figuratively, than most Engineering schools graduating classes." He shoulders un bunched in relief. "And you are in luck, too. I like the "make stuff go boom" engineers." She could tell she smiled back at him, at least, he hoped she did. He chose to think it, anyway.

The made good progress, meeting only 2 teams of 3 Collectors, both easily dispatched, en route to the objective. There was only one set of double doors that lead to the reactor room. Mark entered swept, and called clear, before moving back to the door. Using a small metal rod he found laying in the chamber, with a few crated bends, he jammed the door shut. Confident it was secure, he radioed Vick.

"Objective secure, popping the hood now. Will have an ETA when I see just how scrapped they mean when they say, "Partially Dismantled.""

"Alright, we're working on bringing in the Krogan now.

"Happy hunting." He killed it, and removed his helmet, throwing it in a corner with some boxes.

"Alright, then, Em. So you have no practical experience with things like these, eh?" He gestured at the generator. It was roughly the size of a drop ship, a half sphere bisected by the floor with a midget smokestack sticking from the top conceited to an apparatus in the ceiling by a glass tube.

"Nope." She said, popping the seal on her own helmet, and placing it gently on a crate. Mark to a moment to appreciate the sight. She had chin length black hair, and slightly Asian cast to her features, with intelligent blue eyes; cute rather than pretty. "But when it comes to ordnance, weapons, or field maintenance on a Mako, I am your girl." Mark had popped an access panel while she spoke, looking into the mess of wires and stuff inside.

"Don't tempt me there, luv. Might take you up on that. Gimme access to your Omni tool, please." She sat on a crate, watching him as he crawled into the machine up to his shoulders, rooting around. She activated the device and opened access to the code that was pinging for attention, and immediately several files started to download. Mark grunted and pulled back out. "Not in door number one. Browse those, and if you see anything you can do, or think you might be able to do, let me know." He said it not like he was accusing, but as one trying to keep her from being bored. She browsed them while he removed another panel from the machine and rooted through the contents in it. While they could not get the schematics, wiring diagrams, and many of the other things he wanted. And of course this particular model was older too, so the manuals he they were able to procure were no good anyway.

"Hmmm, I don't think I would be much good on most of this without instruction. But this... Amplification and Projection module... Depending on what's involved, I think I could manage that." The was a bing on her omnitool and the schematic for the device opened. "Oh, yeah, I can make this."

"Cool, let me know when you have it done. Supply closet in the back, o'er there. By then, I could probably use a second set of hands.

Marks objectives were simple, in theory, if not practice. He had to access the state of disrepair the generator was in, then bring it back up to running. Then he was to over clock it so that it could flash a pulse at roughly 400% standard output. Then that pulse needed to be shunted into a blooming pulse that would overlap the grid where the Reapers were currently assaulting the hardest, about 4 klicks to the east. He figured he'd been chosen for this because the speed at which he could handle the electronic process, but he didn't. While the two worked, he decided to try and make conversation.

"So, Emily, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this, and all that?"

"Oh, nothing to special, I suppose. I was raise on Eden Prime, and had joined the Alliance about 2 years before the Geth emerged and razed it. About a year after that, I was nominated for the N7 program, and took it. I was specialized as a combat Engineer, and then the Reapers hit, and I was posted to the _Glory Road._"

"So this is your first posting out of the program? Congratulations." She grinned slightly as she fitted some of the components she had assembled together.

"So what's your story? You said you are not a "sir," so I am assuming you aren't Alliance, even though your armor is. Mercenary?"

"In a sense, I guess. I grew up and stayed on earth for most of my life, never really amounted to much. Working a dead end job, going now where, doing janitorial work for some large company. One night there was an accident, and next thing I know, I wake up in a hospital as a quadriplegic. You know, it's funny, as I often used to curse that, and the years I lost. But now, if it hadn't happened, you know where I would be? Probably burned to a crisp in the bottom of an exploded building back on earth. Anyway, the company I worked for was into Powered Prosthetics and Neural Augmentation nets, so, seeing me as the perfect lab rat, hooked me up and shipped me off to play soldier, trying to land them a military contract. Finished that, bailed, and a few years later I am living happily on Omega. This shit crops up, and as soon as I could get a deployment for the front, just to get countermanded and thrown in with this lot."

"Wait, then who recommended you for this? This Ops group is by recommendation and approval only." Mark paused as he thought about it.

"Dunno. All I know is I turned in my chit for a group deployment, and this Major Kiliken comes up and tells me he has pulled me for his group." It was then, as the relevant part of his story registered.

"Wait... you said quadriplegic, yeah? How do you come back from that?" Mark chuckled bitterly.

"With more pain and surgery than anyone in this life should rightfully be forced to face up to." His tone changed to a slightly lighter one. "It evened out and was worth it in the end, though."

"Because you got new limbs and could unction again?"

"Oh, good, no. That was just a matter of getting used to new weight, reflexes, and not being able to truly feel anything in my arms and legs anymore. No, it balanced because, due to these contraptions, I found a place to be happy, where I fit in the grand puzzle of life, and most importantly, I found some people I could love." Emily nodded solomnly, even though he couldn't see her.

"But if you can't feel anything... how do you... function?" He chuckled warmly this time. As a tech person, he understood how she would puzzle over the mechanics rather than anything else.

"A simple reverse feedback loop, same as normal. It feeds data to my Neural net, which then uses an electrical current to stimulate the artificial nerve endings, which meet in the junction of my shoulder cuffs, where they are bonded through special couplings to my organic nerve structure. In addition, nerve endings have been treaded throughout my psuedo skin, so that when I touch something, dozens of minute readings are taken, processed, and then impressed via electrical currents, giving the impression to my real nerves as if I were actually touching things, when it's all just signals in my net."

"So, for instance, if you were to take off a glove and touch my face..."

"I wouldn't feel a thing, for real, but would be able to tell you your body temp, pore count, blood vessel pattern and depth, etcetera, and several other things like that, while in my processer, all of this is computed into a varying degree of current, and pulsed through my nervous system, giving me the illusion of touch, yes."

"Isn't that... weird?" She asked, curiosity over riding formality.

"A bit, but you get used to it. Speaking of oddities, what is that pistol you've got? I've never seen one like it."

"Oh, I do not doubt it. I got it passed down from a Salarian I had worked with on the ship before. When he bought his piece, I ... inherited it, I guess. It's a Paladin, basically a heavier variant of the Carniflex. Spectre requisitions, strictly controlled. Only way to get one save being a Spectre, is to have them pass it on when before they die."

"Hmm, sorry for the loss." She hesitated, not knowing how to continue.

"Uh... thanks. You get used to the casualty rate, after a while, but it never really stops hurting completely. Makes you want to close up and just... not know anyone anymore." She understood that talking to Mark like this was a violation of that principle, but wanting to avoid the pain of loss did nothing to offset the desire for companionship.

"I know what you mean." He said, thinking of Vick, who got it even harder, having lost so many men and women, and getting all the blame for it. Oh well, he wouldn't let her go this time. "But I still like getting to know people. That's one of the things I like best about having left Earth. I traded one people for several more." Mark checked his data one last time, figured it was the extent of what he could do, and pulled himself out of the bowels of the panel he had crawled part way into. He didn't bother to replace the cover as he stood. He moved tot eh wall, and threw the large switch, allowing the energy from the facilities reactor flood into the generator.

"Oooh, yes! Getting a weak heartbeat!" He moved quickly over to the scavenged control panel, and realized he was getting nothing from there, so he ducked down and removed the casing so he could physically manipulate what he needed. "Alright, so we just jiggle this bit a tad, rip out this wire, splice this one, and jerk this lever and... Bam! We are in business!" He did the action he was describing as he said them, and a loud clack and shower of sparks, followed by a thrumming hum filled the room as he threw the lever. "Ah, this is going to be fun with no control surfaces."

"Finished." Emily said, waking over and handing him the amplification module.

"Excellent. I need three more." She went and sat back down to craft more, while Mark began testing the signals given by random wire clusters. By the time he finished attaching monitor leads to all the necessary wires, because of course they monitor output wires could not be grouped in the same cluster, that would have been too easy, Emily had crafted two of the amps. Mark pulled a display out of thin air, and fitted it to the scope free original control surface. Mark triggered his radio.

"Lieutenant Caverns, Ma'am."

"Go ahead."

"Got the objective online. Not sure what it will take to get it to mission specified conditions, but I will keep you posted. Out."

"Do that, out." He moved over by Emily, and the tray of parts she was working off of, and began to craft the mounts that were needed for the amps.

"So..." he started "your buddy, the adept, who pissed in her cornflakes?"

"Pfft, she's no friend of mine. Only been here for around 3 ops, all with us." Mark chuckled.

"She rubs you the wrong way too?"

"Yeah. I mean, she's so combative all the time. At least she doesn't push it too far when Tom is around. I think she is intimidated by him."

"Shit, I have arms and legs of metal, and I wouldn't want to be on his bad side. And she's smaller than you are, so I wouldn't doubt that."

"I don't worry about it too much, though, he's such a nice guy."

"Heh, I believe it. It's an old thing, evolutionary, I think. The bigger ones have gentler temperaments, while the little ones are meaner to compensate." She thought about it for a minute.

"I don't think that holds together."

"It does if you remember that on their planet, Krogan are the little ones." She conceded that point. "My main man Jericho, he's a specialist in Asari, but he knows a lot of general XenoBiology on most of the advanced races. He was telling me about how on Tuchanka, the Krogan are actually, evolutionarily speaking, a prey species, based on physiology and their birth rates and such. Interesting, if you have a mind for that kind of thing."

(...)

Crafting the necessary components was the easy part, as it turned out, and Mark was glad to not just have an extra (and necessary) set of hands, but also one that was not completely incompetent to his needs. In order to install the new kit, they had to take the damn thing apart. Total time from start until they were ready to start testing was 10 hours. Testing to make sure that what they wanted to acehive could be done, another 2. Remembering then that the remote to activate it needed to be installed, 10 minutes of swearing, then another hour of work. Then it took 4 hours of running to acumulate the necessary charge in the amplifiers.

Mark told Emily to take a nap while he watched it, her expertise no longer needed. She was reluctant, but eventually relented and dossed out on the floor. As it passed with in 2 hours of completion, he called in.

"Hey, Vick."

"Yeah."

"All is good on my end. Current projections on charge time and final prep are sitting stedily at just over 2 hours."

"Alright. I'll radio it in and make sure we have a ride out. In and out in less than 24 hours, only minor injuries our side, 6 casualties on the Capitans. Not a bad run."

"You mean a damn stupendous run, considering I had to deal with technology I have never used before, with information translated poorly, that didn't apply at all, to a type of thing I don't even have the slightest on the engineering knowledge of the techniques used. This thing isn't even a Turian construction, it was made by the Volus. So I would say we should be up for medals, if we were in a service that qualified for that." She muttered a noise of agreement. "What's eating you, Vick?" She was quiet, meaning he nailed it."

"There haven't been any real counter attacks, just scattered groups making half hearted assaults. It makes me nervous."

"Well, if I know you, you've done everything you can to prep."

"Yeah. Got everyone shifting on 2 hour sleep, two hour watch, including me. We welded shut all the easy entrance, with sensors and sabotage where we could, and have constant sweeps keeping the interior clear. But still, we should have seen a full counter attack by now. The number of troops guarding it indicated that they knew this was an important facility."

"I am not so sure, there. Look at it this way. This moon is a military instillation. So reason says that all the facilities here are important. Between us, India, and Krag, we wiped out around 300 bugs, Husks, and bigger things, all stationed here. Damn near the entire garrison came out to meet us. My guess is they just set a trap here, on the off chance we would come and try to reclaim it. The importance of this place is relitivly null, as it took me and Em over 14 hours labor just to make this junk heap work, and before we came, it wasn't even partially weaponized."

"hmmm... maybe. Anyway, I'll call it up, and let command know what the situation is. Over and out."

(...)

At T-minus 15 minutes, Mark moved to where Emily was sleeping, nudged the two of his boot under her side, and nufged her gently a few times, until her eyes snapped open.

"15 till were are go, time to get up." She sat up.

"You said you'd wake me after 2 hours, so you could catch some sack."

"Yeah, I lied. I am fine, besides, I needed to be up to monitor the generator.

"No you didn't." She groused, rubbing her eyes and stretching.

"True, but I am fine. Been long periods between kips lately, think I've gotten used to it." She replaced her armored gauntlets, and then helmet, as Mark did the same, all while moving back over to check his Holographic read out. Charge in each amp was steady at 100% and holding, generator was running at 88%, a little hot, but it wouldn't matter. Tests of the remote were showing green, and the back up (Satchel charge) was green to go as well. Ushering Emily out, he took a series of struts he had scavenged, and closed the door. He fired up his omnitool's torch, and melted all the doors seams together, Emily working a low set cryo stream to speed the cooling.

When that was done, he welded the struts over the seams for a bit more support. Not sure it would hold out much, but it was better than nothing. With that accomplished, he yawned, shouldered his weapon, and moved to the area he had earmarked as Victoria's location. As he entered the room, which was really full of Krogan, He could feel the Fury's eyes boring into the back of his head. He made a movement like he was trying to scratch under the plates in his back, while clearly presenting his middle finger to the woman. Krag was standing back, and he gave a grunting chuckle, recognizing the gesture. Mark turned his head, giving the Krogan a quick nod, and checking to make sure Cypress caught it. Oh, boy, did she. He guessed that if they weren't in a room full of Krogan, she would have flown across the room and done her best to smash him. Everyone was geared up, and waiting.

"Alright, They are sending us a pair of Mako's to bring us back. Command wants the link up so they can fire the detonation, they have a team working on the big ones, and they are turning them into position now." Mark opened a channel and gave the codes to Kiliken while Victoria finished her speech." ... expecting a welcome, or something, somewhere down the line. Mark, patch in and give command of the generator to the _Glory._"

"Already done and tested Ma'am." She looked over, and nodded.

"Alright, then, Krag, your on point, Mark, you and Park are on drag."

(...)

There was no resistance on their trip back to outpost 86. The gunner would take pot shots at oddly shaped terrain, but no return fire was ever seen. The unloaded just inside the gate, when the call came down from up top that the fireworks were about to start. India and Lima, Victoria having to bat off the camps prim Asari medic, mounted the wall separating it from the plain, a good 15 feet below the mounted turret platforms, and looked out toward the facility. In the further distance, the hulking shapes of the planet bout Reapers could be seen, slicing out with their weapons, and crabbing along.

There was a small pop of blue light, and about 4 seconds later a sound that matched it fairly well. Mark reached out and found Victoria's hand, squeezing it gently. Then, there was a flash, that seemed to extend horizontally along the horizon line, followed by a balloon of blue energy expanding in all directions from its epicenters. Seeming to understand the threat, the three Reapers turned toward the source, their red beams charging. Mark held up his right hand, a small cylinder clutched in it. He brought his thumb down on a small button.

There was another blue flash, brighter, in the center of the balloon, and a second wave flashed out, moving faster, colliding with the first and increasing it's intensity until it flashed brighter than they could look at. Mar tossed the detonator and reached out, finding Emily's hand too. Victoria leaned her helmet over and made contact, personal suit to suit, off the radio.

"The hell was that?"

"Emily had a satchel of Arc Grenades. I pulled their cores and used it to fashion a bigger boom pulse. Nice, no?" She pulled her helm away, and he guess she approved.

When the flashed cleared, the Reapers could be seen again, jerkily stuttering about, lines of electricity leaping between parts of their plating. Then, like a swarm of gnats, missiles rained from orbit, shattering the weakened armor and sending fiery plumes into the air. That was when the Mass drivers in some of the remaining larger ships began to hammer the broken machines, as the base around them lifted a weary cheer as the first of the machine chained with fire and detonated, it's core hit by a projectile, detonating in bright orange. The shockwave toppled the other two, dead machines. Moral would be high for a while, all over the moon.

From no less than 8 points in the sky, red lines etched down, converging on the facility. There was no explosion, just a dull red glow as acres of surface were liquefied. Victoria pulled away, giving in to the insistent Asari that had not hounded her while the action was happening. Amrk released his hold on Emily's hand, noticing that she had grasped his back.

"Holding on there?" He asked.

"So you really can feel it?" She said.

"In a way, yes, just like I can tell you are squeezing with different fingers. If you want to examine it, you're more than welcome. He popped his helmet off, and began to walk down toward the commissary, getting the impression that the other was blushing.

"I wouldn't want to be a bother." He voice told him that yes, she had been blushing. He popped the locking collar at his right wrist, pulling off the gauntlet and soft suit glove as one piece. He stopped at the bottom of the ramp, moving aside so as not to block traffic, and noticed she had pulled of her helm as well. He held out his bare hand.

"Here, examine. Looks real, don't it." She looked sheepish, but very interested in the concept. He chuckled, tiredly. "Nothing to be ashamed of, Em. I'm a gear head too, and I understand the desire to learn about new things, especially tech things." She looked up into his eyes, figured it was ok, and hurried removed her own hand covers. She then began poking and prodding, squeezing and manipulating. Mark was beginning to realize how tired he was, vut he was still eminently aware of how cute this little special forces officer was.

"Tell you what, Emily. Let me shuck this tin suit, and join me for a cup of coffee in the mess tent, and you can poke and prod to your heart's content. I'll break out some of the technical diagrams, and you can look through those, and check out the mods I made to some of the more offensive capable systems. I'll even show you my set of spares I keep on hand, but in the bunk tent, no need to broadcast the cripple bit, you know." He grimaced. "Lord, don't know what's worse, the pity, or the way people think your contagious. She agreed and released his hand, vowing to meet him in the mess hall as soon as she change into lighter clothing as well. Sileen fell into step beside him.

"You know what the one constant is that I have observed in all races that I have had time to see, Sileen?"

"What's that?" She said, clearly bemused.

"Women. Like that smile you got on, says you think I am up to something with that girl. Same on any race I have seen.

"And you aren't trying anything?" She said, her face not change.

"Nah. ... well... not right now, anyway. To tired. Just sating her intellectual curiosity on how the freaks arms and legs work." Sileen chuckled.

"Like you don't know that women find scars sexy."

"True. But so do men, so that's just out there. Know what else some women find arousing?"

"I am sure I know several, through experience." She quipped playfully. Mark looked over at her and smiled.

"Oh, you do? Like how some women get turned on, like, really turned on as a side effect of the adrenaline or it's Turian equivalent, as it washes out of their system after combat?" He face blanked so quick Mark imagined he could hear the skin snap. He grinned widely. "Took me a while, but your playful behavior when you were gutting the Cerberus troops back on the Citadel was so out of character it stuck with me. Never would have guessed that that kind of thing would make a veteran like you horny as a school girl on fleet week." He shifted and bumped her shoulder, and she failed to react, her mind whirling.

"Oh, come off it, Sil. It's a natural reaction, happens to all of us sometimes. I mean, is there a better way to celebrate a successful skirmish that a drunken mattress dance with a near stranger? Besides, if it helps, I think it's cute."

"You're a odd man." She said, regaining her composure, and smiling.

"The word is asshole, and yes. Emphatically yes. Now bugger off, unless you want to see me without my britches, and believe me, it's not that impressive." She snorted back a laugh, and retreated, shaking her head.

**End.**

**Alright, longest thing ever, toping 12,250 words, 41 pages. Anyway, didn't mean to cram so many characters down your throat, but the Cigar chomping Krogan was too cool not to add, and I really like the N7 classes, (3/4 mentioned) So I wanted them in to, expecially the combative, slightly malicious Cypress. Some more character stuff next time, but only one new one that I can forsee.**

**Thanks to Sphinxes for the review of the first chapter, I appreciate the fact that someone out there took the time to look it over.**


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